UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA
THE GIFT OF
MAY TREAT MORRISON
IN MEMORY OF
ALEXANDER F MORRISON
m* mis.
A
THE
WORKS
O F
4 R
V O L U M E the T H I R D.
CONTAINING,
ALL'S WELL, that ENDS WELL.
T w E L F T H-N i G H T : O, What you will,
The COMEDY of ERRORS.
'The W i N T E R-N IGHT'S TALE.
The LIFE and DEATH of l&ng JOHN.
LONDON;
Printed for J. and P. Knapton, 5. ;>/, T. Longman and
T. Shewell, H. Lintott, C. Hitch, J. Brindlcy, J. and R. Ton-
fon and 5, Draper, R. Islington, E.New> and B. Dad,
MPCCXLVII,
ERRATA.
Page 2-9. I. penult, frr tegether read together, p. 77. 1. 16, for 1
4taA I'll. p. 81. 1. 29. /jr I'll >W I'd. p. 144. 1. 7.1. for it is read
is his. p. 164. I. 31. for and he muft read and his muft. p. 217.
I. 36. for in read as. p. 215. 1. IT- for trying rwrf tyring, p. 360.
!. 17. /r Col. read CIo. p. 424. 1. penult. Jr btiy ra</ by. p. 469.
1. 1 1. fr an / en.
A L L s W E L
THAT
ENDS WELL.
VOL. III.
B
PER SO NJE.
KING of France.
Duke of Florence.
Bertram, Count of Roufillon.
Lafeu, an old Lord.
Parolles, a parafitical follower of Bertram 5 a coward^
but vain, and a great pretender to valour.
Several young French Lords, that ferve with Bertram in
the Florentine 'war.
Stroants 10 the C""* Roufll!on -
Count efs of Roufillon, mother to Bertram.
Helena, daughter to Gerard de Narbon, a famous
phyfician, feme time ftnce dead.
An old widow of Florence.
Diana, daughter to the
*r ' ( Neighbours, and friends to the widow.
Lords, attending on the King ; Officers, Soldiers, &c.
SCENE lies partly in France ; and> partly
in Tufcany.
ALL'S Well, that ENDS Well.
A C T I. SCENE I.
Count efs of Roufillon'^ Honfe in France.
Enter Bertram, the Countefs of Roufillon, Helena,
and Lafeu, all in Mourning.
CoUNTEgS.
bury
N diiTevering my fon from me, I
a fecond husband.
Ber. And I in going, Madam, weep
o'er my father's death anew j but I muft
attend his Majefty's command, to whom
I am now in ward, evermore in fubjection.
Laf. You (hall find of the King a husband, Ma-
dam , you, Sir, a father. He, that fo generally is it
all times good, muft of neceffity hold his virtue to
i In DELIVERING my fon from me ] To deliver from, in
the feiife of giving up, is not Englifh. Skakefpear wrote, in
DISSEVERING my fon from me The following Words, too,
. / bury a fecond husband demand this reading. For to
diffevtr implies a violent divorce ; and therefore might be com-
pared to the burying a butband', which, delivering does not.
./, B 2 you 5
4 All's veil, that Ends <well.
you; * whofe vvorthinefs would ftir it up where it
wanted, rather than flack it where there is fuch abun-
' dance.
Count. What hope is there of his Majefty's amend-
ment ?
Laf. He hath abandon'd his phyficians, Madam,
under whofe practices he hath perfecuted time with
hope ; and finds no other advantage in the procefs,
but only the lofing of hope by time.
Count. J This young gentlewoman had a father,
(O, tint bad! how fad a Prefage 'tis ! ) whofe skill
was almoft as great as his honefty ; had it ftretch'd fo
far, it would have made nature immortal, and death
fhould have play'd for lack of work. 'Would, for
the King's fake, he were living! I think, it would
be the death of the King's difeafe.
Laf. How call'd you the man you fpeak of.
Madam ?
Count. He was famous, Sir, in his profefflon, and
it was his great right to be fo: Gerard de Narbon.
Laf. He was excellent, indeed, Madam ; the King
very lately fpoke of him admiringly, and mourningly :
2 nubofe ivortkincfs would ftir it up <where it wanted, rather
than lack it where there is fetch abundance. ~\ An Oppofition of
Terms is vHibly defign'd in this fencence ; tho' the Oppofition is
not fo vifible, as the Terms now ftand. Wanted and Abundance
are the Oppofites to one another; biu how is lack a Contrail to
jlir up? The Addition of a fingie Letter gives it, and the very
Senfe requires it. "fy&fi flack it.
3 This young gentlenxorran had a father ( O, that had ! ko<vi
fod a PASSAGE ""' /*'.'/] Letfeu was fpeaking of the King's defpe-
rate Condition: which makes the Coumefs .recall to mind the de-
ceafed Gerard de Narbon, who, fhe thinks, could have cured him.
But in ufmg the word bad, which implied his death, me flops in
the middle of her fentence, and makes a reflexion upon it, which,
according to the prefent reading, is unintelligible. We mufl there-
fore believe Shakefpear wrote ( O that had ! how fad a PRESAGE
'tis ) /. e. a Prefage that the King muft now expeft no cure, fince
fo skilful a Perfon was himfelf forced to fubmit to a malignant
diftemper.
he
All's well, that Ends well.
he was skilful enough to have liv'd ftiJJ, if knowledge
could be fet up againft mortality.
Ber. What is it, my good lord, the King lan-
gui fries of?
Laf. A fiftula, my lord.
Ber. I heard not of it before.
Laf. I would, it were not notorious. Was this
gentlewoman the daughter of Gerard de Narlon ?
Ceunt. His fole child, my lord, and bequeathed to
my overlooking. I have thofe hopes of her good,
that her education promifes her; difpofition me in-
herits, which makes fair gifts fairer; for 4 where an
unclean mind carries virtuous qualities, there, com-
mendations go with pity j they are virtues and traitors
too : in her they are the better for her fimplenefs ; fhe
derives her honefty, and atchieves her goodnefs.
4 where an unclean mind carries virtuous qualities^ there,
commendations go with pity, they are Virtues and Traitors too: in
her they are the better for THEIR fimplenefs ; foe derives her ho~
nejly, and atchieves her goodnefs.] This obfcure encomium is
made ftill more obfcure by a flight corruption of the text. Let
us explain the paflage as it lies. By virtuous qualities are meant
qualities of good breeding and erudition ; in the fame fenfe that
the Italians fay, qualita <virtuofa', and not moral ones. On this
account it is, me lays, that, in an ill mind, thefe virtuous qualities
are virtues and traitors too; i. e. the advantages of education
enable an ill mind to go further in wickednefs than it could have
done without them : But, fays the Countefs, in her they are the
better far THEIR fimp/enefs. Butjtmplenffs is the fame with what
is called ione/ty, immediately after; which cannot be predicated
of the qualities of education. We mud certainly read
HER fimplenefs
And then the fentence is properly concluded. The Countefs had
(aid, that virtuous qualities are the worfe for an unclean mind,
but concludes that Helens are the better for herjimplenefs. i. e. her
clean, pure mind. She then fums up the Character, (he had before
given in detail, in thefe words, Jhe derives her honejly, and at-
chieves her goodnefs ', i. e. She derives her honejly, her Jimplenefe,
her moral Character, from her Father and Ancettors : Bat me at-
chieves or wins her goodnefs, her virtue, or her qualities of good-
breeding and erudition, by her own pains and labour.
B 3 14-
All's 'welly that Ends 'well
Laf. Your commendations, Madam, get from her
tears.
Count. *Tis the beft brine a maiden can feafon her
praife in. The remembrance of her father never ap^-
proaches her heart, but the tyranny of her forrows
takes all livelihood from her cheek. No more of
this, Helena, go to, no more ; left it be rather thought
you afFect a forrow, than to have it.
Hel. I do affecT: a forrow, indeed, but I have it
too.
Laf. Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead,
exceffive grief the enemy to the living.
Count. 3 If the living be not enemy to the grief,
the excefs makes it foon mortal.
Ber. Madam, I defire your holy wifhes.
Laf. How underftand we that ?
Count. Be thou bleft, Bertram, and fucceed thy
father
In manners as in fhape ! thy blood and virtue
Contend for empire in thee, and thy goodnefs
Share with thy birth-right! Love all. truit a few,
Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy
Rather in power, than ufe j and keep thy friend
Under thy own life's key : be check'd for filence,
But never tax'd for fpeech. What heav'n more will,
That thee may furnifh, and my prayers pluck down s
Fall on thy head! Farewel, my lord ;
3 Fis an unfeafon'd courtier, good my lord,
Advife him.
Laf. He cannot want the beft,
That fliall attend his love.
5 If the living le enemy to the grief, the excefs makes it fan
mortal.] This feems very obfcure ; but the addition of a Nega-
tive perfe&ly difpels all the milt. If the living be not enemy, &c.
exceflive grief is an enemy to the living, lays Lafeu. : Ye?,
jreplies theCountefs; and if the living be not enemy to the grief,
i. e. ftrive to conquer it,] the excefs makes it foon mortal.
Count.
All's 'well, that Ends 'well.
Count. Heav'n blefs him! FarevveJ, Bertram.
{Exit Countefs.
Ber. [To. Hel.] The beft wifhes, that can be forg'd
in your thoughts, be fervants to you ! Be comfortable
to my mother, your miftrefs, and make much of
her.
Laf. FareweJ, pretty lady, you muft hold the
credit of your father. {Exeunt Bertram and Lafeu.
SCENE II.
Hel. Oh, were that all! 1 think not on my
father ;
And thefe great tears grace his remembrance more 3
Than thofe I fhed for him. What was he like?
I have forgot him. My imagination
Carries no favour in it, but my Bertram's.
I am undone ; there is no living, none,
If Bertram be away. It were all one,
That 1 mould love a bright partic'lar ftar,
And think to wed it; he is fo above me:
In his bright radiance 6 and collateral light
Muft I be comforted, not in his fphere.
Th' ambition in my love thus plagues itfelf ;
The hind, that would be mated by the lion,
Muft die for love. 'Twas pretty, tho' a plague,
To fee him every hour ; to fit and draw
His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls,
In our heart's table : heart, too capable
Of every line and trick of his fweet favour!
But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy
Muft fanctify his relicks. Who comes here !
6 and collateral light.] collateral for reflected. \, c. in the
radiance of his reflected light; not in his fphere, or direft light.
Mitten ufes the word, in the fame fenfe, fpeaking of the Son,
Of high collateral Glory. Book 10 v. 86.
B 4 Enter
All's well, flat Ends 'well.
Enter Parolles.
One, that goes with him : I love him for his fake,
" And yet I know him a notorious Jiar ;
*' Think him a great way fool, folely a coward ;
** Yet thefe fix'd evils fit fo fit in him,
" That they take place, when virtue's fteely bones
" Look bleak in the cold wind -," full oft we fee
7 Cold wifdom waiting on fuperfluous folly.
SCENE III.
Par. Save you, fair Queen.
Hel. And you, Monarch.
Par. No.
Hel. And no.
Par. Are you meditating on virginity ?
Hel. Ay: you have fome 8 flain of foldier in you j
let me ask you a queflion. Man is enemy to virgi-
nity, how may we barricade it againft him ?
Par. Keep him out.
Hel. But he aflafls ; and our virginity, tho s valiant,
in the defence yet is weak : unfold to us fome warlike
refiftance.
Par. There is none: man, fetting down before
you, will undermine you, and blow you up.
Hel. Blefs our poor virginity from underminers and
blowers up ! Is there no military policy, how
virgins might blow up men ?
Par. Virginity being blown down, man will quick-
lier be blown up: marry, in blowing him down
again, with the breach yourfelves made, you lofe
7 Cold nvi/Jom waiting on fuperfluous /o#y.] Cold for naked ; as
fuperfuous for over-cloath'd. This makes the propriety of the
Antithefis.
8 Stain of folditr} flam for colour. Parolles was in red, as
ilppears from his being afterwards called red-taird humble bee.
your
All's 'well, that Ends 'well.
your city. It is not politick in the commonwealth
of nature, to preferve virginity. Lofs of virginity
is rational increafe ; and there was never virgin got,
'till virginity was firft loft. That, you were made of,
is metal to make virgins. Virginity, by being once loft,
may be ten times found: by being ever kept, it is
ever loft , 'tis too cold a companion : away with't.
Hel. I will ftand for't a little, though therefore I
die a virgin.
Par. There's little can be faid in't , 'tis againft the
rule of nature. To fpeak on the part of virginity,
is to accufe your mother ; which is mod infallible difo-
bedience. As 9 he, that hangs himfelf, fo is a virgin:
virginity murthers itfelf, and fhould be buried in
highways out of all fanctified limit, as a defperate
offendrefs againft nature. Virginity breeds mites,
much like a cheefe ; confumes itfelf to the very
paring, and fo dies with feeding its own ftomach.
Befides, virginity is peevifh, proud, idle, made of
felf-love, which is the moft prohibited fin in the
canon. Keep it not, you cannot chufe but lofe
by't. Out with't; within ten years it will make
itfelf two, which is a goodly increafe, and the
principal itfelf not much the worfe. Away with't.
Hel. How might one do, Sir, to lofe it to her own
liking ?
9 He, that hangs himfelf, is a Pit-gin:] But why is he that hangs
himfelf a Virgin ? Surely, not for the reafon. that follows, Virgi-
nity murders itfelf. For tho' every Virgin be a Suicide, yet evtry
Suicide is not a Virgin. A word or two are dropt, which intro-
duced a comparifon in this place ; and Shakefpear wrote it thus,
A s he, that bangs himfelf, so is a Virgin.
And then it follows naturally, Virginity murders itfelf. By this
emendation, the Oxford Editor was enabled to alter the Text
thai,
He that hangs himfelf is like a Virgin.
And this is his afual way of becoming a Critick at a cheap ex-
pence.
Par.
io All's f well ) that Ends 'well.
Par. Let me fee. Marry, ill, to like him that
ne'er it likes. 'Tis a commodity will lofe the glofs
with lying. The longer kept, the lefs worth: off
with't, while 'tis vendible. Anfwer the time of re-
queft. Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap
out of fafhion : richly futed, but unfutable ; juft like
the brooch and the toothpick, which we wear not
now : your date is better in your pye and your por-
ridge, than in your cheek ; and your virginity, your
old virginity, is like one of our French wither'd pears ;
it looks ill, it eats drily ; marry, 'tis a wither'd pear:
it was formerly better i marry, yet 'tis a wither'd
pear. Will you any thing with it?
HeL Not my virginity yet.
There fhall your mafter have a thoufand loves,
A mother, and a miftrefs, and a friend,
1 [A phoenix, captain, and an enemy,
A guide, a goddefs, and a fovereign,
A counfellor, a traitrefs, and a dear j
His humble ambition, proud humility ;
His jarring concord ; and his difcord dulcet ;
His faith, his fweet difafter i with a world
Of pretty fond adoptious chriftendoms,
That blinking Cupid goflips. Now fhall he ]
1 A Phoenix, Captain^ &c.] The eight following lines between
the hooks, 1 am perfuadtd is the nonfenfe of fome foolifh con-
ceited Player. What put it into his head was Helen's faying, as it
ihould be read for the future,
There Jhall your Mafter have a thoufand loves!
J Mother, and a Miftrefs, and a Friend.
/ know not, nuhat he Jhall God fend him well.
Where the Fellow finding a thoufand loves fpoken of, and only
three reckoned up, namely a Mother's, a Miflreff's, and a.Frittuf* f
(which, by the way, were all a judicious Writer could mention ;
for there are but thefe three fpecies of love in Nature) he would help
out the number, by the intermediate nonfenfe: and, becaufe they
were yet too few, he pieces out his /owes with enmities, and makes
of the whole fuch finifhed nonfenfe as is never heard out of
Bedlam.
All's well) that Ends well. I j
I know not, what he fhall God fend him well!
The court's a learning place and he is one
Par. What one, i'faith ?
Hel. That I wifh well 'tis pity
Par. What's pity?
Hel. That wifhing well had not a body in't,
Which might be felt; that We the poorer born,
Whofe bafer flars do fiiut us up in wifhes,
Might with effects of them follow our friends :
And fhew what we alone muft think, which never
Returns us thanks.
Enter Page.
Page. Monfieur Parolles,
My lord calls for you. [Exit Page.
Par. Little Helen, farewel ; if I can remember
thee, I will think of thee at court.
Hel. Monfieur Paroltes, you were born under a
charitable ftar.
Par. Under Mars, I.
Hel. I efpecially think, under Mars;
Par. Why under Mars ?
Hel. The wars have kept you fo under, that you
muft needs be born under Mars.
Par. When he was predominant.
Hel. When he was retrograde, I think, rather.
Par. Why think you fo ?
Hel. You go fo much backward, when you fight.
Par. That's for advantage.
Hel. So is running away, when fear propofes fafety :
but the compofition, that your valour and tear makes in
you, z is a virtue of agood ming, and I like the wear well.
2 if a virtue of a goad WING, and I like tl?e. wear well.]
The integrity of the metaphor cireds us to Shakefpeat"* true read-
ing ; which, doubtlefs, was a good MING, i.e. mixture,
compofition, a word common to Shakejpear and the writers of this
age ; and taken from the texture of cloth. The M was turn'd the
wrong way at the prefs, and from thence came the blunder.
Par.
All's veil, that Ends 'well.
Par. I am fo full of bufinefies, as I cannot anfwer
thee acutely: I will return perfect courtier > in the
which, my inftruction mall ferve to naturalize thee,
fo thou wilt be capable of courtier's counfd, and un-
derftand what advice fhall thruft upon thee ; elfe thou
dieft in thine unthankfulnefs, and thine ignorance
makes thee awayj farewel. When thou haft leifure,
fay thy prayers; when thou haft none, remember thy
friends ; get thee a good husband, and ufe him as he
ufes thee : fo farewel. [Exit.
SCENE IV.
flel. Our remedies oft in ourfelves do lie,
Which we afcribe to heav'n. The fated sky
Gives us free fcope ; only, doth backward pull
Our flow defigns, when we ourfelves are dull.
What power is it, which mounts my love fo high,
That makes me fee, and cannot feed mine eye ?
The mightieft fpace in fortune nature brings
To join like likes ; and kifs, like native things.
Impoflible be ftrange attempts, to thofe
That weigh their pain in fenfe ; and do fuppofe,
What hath been, cannot be. Who ever (trove
To -Ihew her merit, that did mifs her love ?
The King's difeafe my project may deceive me,
But my intents are fix'd, and will not leave me.
[*//.
SCENE
All's well, that Ends well. 13
SCENE V.
Changes to the Court of France.
Flourijh Cornets. Enter the King of France with letters,
and divers Attendants.
King, np H E Florentines and Senoys are by th" cars ;
1 Have fought with equal fortune, and continue
A braving war.
i Lord. So 'tis reported, Sir.
King. Nay, 'tis moft credible ; we here receive it,
A certainty vouch'd from our coufin Auftria ;
With caution, that the Florentine will move us
For fpeedy aid ; wherein our deareft friend
Prejudicatcs the bufinefs, and would feem
To have us make denial.
1 Lord. His love and wifdom,
Approved fo to your Majefty, may plead
For ample credence.
King. He hath arrn'd our anfwer ;
And Florence is deny'd, before he comes:
Yet, for our gentlemen that mean to fee
The Tufcan fervice, freely have they leave
To (land on either part.
2 Lord\\t may well ferve
A nurfery to our gentry, who are fick
For breathing and exploit.
King. What's he comes here?
Enter Bertram, Lafeu and Parolles.
i Lord. It is the count Roujillon, my good lord,
young Bertram.
King. Youth, thou bear'ft thy father's face.
Frank nature, rather curious than in hafte,
Hath
1 4 All's 'well, that Ends 'well.
Hath well compos'd thee. Thy father's moral parts
May'ft thou inherit too! Welcome to Paris.
Ber. My thanks and duty are your Majefty's.
King. I would, I had that corporal foundnefs now,
As when thy father and myfelf in friendfhip
Firft try'd our foldierfhip : he did look far
Into the fervice of the time, and was
Difcipled of the brav'ft. He lafted long ;
But on us both did J haggifh age fteal on,
And wore us out of a<5l. It much repairs me
To talk of your good father j in his youth
He had the wit, which I can well obferve
To day in our young lords ; but they may jeft,
Till their own fcorn return to them unnoted,
4 Ere they can hide their levity in honour:
5 So like a courtier, no contempt or bitternefs
Were in him ; pride or fharpnefs, if there were,
His equal had awak'd them -, and his honour,
Clock to itfelf, knew the true minute when
Exceptions bid him fpeak ; and at that time
His tongue obey'd his hand. Who were below him
3 haggijb agefteal on,] age, which debilitates; alluding to
the fuperftitions of being hagridden in the Epialtis ; which coming
gradually on, it was faid, the witch Jiole upon them.
4 Ere they can hide their levity in honour :] i. e. ere their titles
can cover the levity of their behaviour, and make it pafs for de-
fert. The Oxford Editor, not underftanding this, alter,* the line to
Ere they can <vye their levity with his honour."
5 So like a Ceurtier, fro Contempt or Bitternefs
Were in his Pride or Sbarpnefs; if they -were,
His Equal had awak'd them. ] This Paflage is fo very
incorre&ly pointed, that the Author's Meaning is loft. As the
Text and Stops are reform'd, thefe are moft beautiful Lines, and
the Senfe is this " He had no Contempt or Bitttrnefs ; if he
had any thing that look'd like Pride or Sbarpnefs t (of which
Qualities Contempt and Bitternefs are the Excefles,) his Equal
had awak'd them, not his Inferior ; to whom he fcorn'd to
difcovcr any thing that bore the Shadow of Pride or Sharp-
nefs."
He
All's well* that Ends
* He us'd as creatures of another place,
And bow'd his eminent top to their low ranks ;
7 Making them proud ; and his humility,
In their poor praife, he humbled : Such a man
Might be a copy to thefe younger times -,
Which, fbllow'd well, would now demonftrate them
But goers backward.
Ber. His good remembrance, Sir,
Lies richer in your thoughts, than on his tomb;
So in approof 8 lives not his epitaph,
As in your royal fpeech. [fay,
King. 'Would, I were with him ! he would always
(Methinks, I hear him now j his plaufive words
He fcatter'd not in ears, but grafted them
To grow there, and to bear ;) Let me not live,
(Thus his good melancholy oft began,
On the cataftrophe and heel of paftime,
When it was out,) let me not live, (quoth he,)
After my flame lacks oil ; to be the fnuff
Of younger fpirits, whofe apprehenfive fcnfes
All but new things difdain ; whofe judgments are
Meer fathers of their garments ; whofe conftancies
Expire before their fafhions: this he wifh'd.
I, after him, do after him wifh too,
(Since I nor wax, nor honey, can bring home,)
I quickly were diflblved from my hive.
6 He us'J as creatures of another place.] i. e. he made allow-
ances for their conduct, and bore from them whar he would not
from one of his own rank. The Oxford Editor, not underfland-
ing the Senfe, has altered another place, to a Brother-race.
7 Making them proud O F his humility,
In their poor praife, he humbled ] But why were they
proud of his Humility ? It mould be read and pointed thus.
Making them proud; AND his Humility,
In their poor praife, he humbled
i. e. by condefcending to rtoop to his Inferiors, he exalted them
and made them proud-, and, in the gracious receiving their por
praife, he humbled even his humility. The Sentiment is fine.
S lives not his epitaph,] epitaph for character.
To
1 6 All's well, that Ends 'welt.
To give Tome 9 labourer room.
2 Lord. You're loved, Sir ;
They, that lead lend it you, fhall lack you firft.
King. I fill a place, I know't. How long is't, count,
Since the phyfician at your father's died ?
He was much fam'd.
Ber. Some fix months fmce, my lord.
King. If he were living, I would try him yet;
Lend me an arm ; the reft have worn me ouc
With feveral applications ; nature and ficknefs
Debate it at their leifure. Welcome, count,
My fon's no dearer.
Ber. Thank your Majefty. \_FlouriJh. Exeunt.
SCENE VI.
Changes to the Countefs's at Roufillon.
Enter Countefs^ Steward and Clown.
Count. ,T WILL now hear; what fay you of this
JL gentlewoman ?
Stew. Madam, the care I have had to even your
content, I wifh might be found in the calendar of
my paft endeavours 5 for then we wound our modefty,
and make foul the clearnefs of our defervings, when
of ourfelves we publim them.
Count. What does this knave here ? get you gone,
Sirrah : the complaints, I have heard of you, I do
not all believe i 'tis my flownefs that I do not, for,
I know, * you lack not folly to commit them, and
have ability enough to make fuch knaveries yours.
Clo.
9 labourers room.] We {hould read labourer, i. e. an a&ive
fucceffor.
i you lack not folly to commit them, and have ability enough to
make fuch knaveries YOURS.] Well, but if he had folly to com-
mit them, he neither wanted knavery, nor any thing elfe, fare,
to make them his 9<wn. This nonfenfe fhould be read, To make
fuch
All's well, that Ends well. 17
Clo. 'Tis not unknown to you, Madam, I am a
poor fellow.
Count. Well, Sir.
Clo. No, Madam ; 'tis not fo well that I am poor,
tho' many of the rich are damn*d , but, if I have
your ladyfhip's good will to go to the world, Lbel thfe
woman and I will do as we may.
Count. Wilt thou needs be a beggar?
Clo. I do beg your good will in this cafe.
Count. In what cafe ?
Clo. In JjM's cafe, and mine own ; fervice is no he-
ritage, and, I think, I mall never have the blefling of
God, 'till I have Iffue of my body ; for they lay,
beams are bleffings.
Count. Tell me thy reafon why thou wilt marry.
Clo. My poor body, Madam, requires ic. I am
driven on by the Flefri ; and he muft needs go, that
the devil drives.
Count. Is this all your worfhip's reafon ?
Clo. Faith, Madam 3 1 have other holy reafons, fuch
as they are.
Count. May the world know them?
Clo. I have been, Madam, a wicked creature, as
you and all flem and blood arc 5 and, indeed, 1 do
marry, that I may repent.
fucb kna<ueriet YARE; nimble, dextrous, /. e. Tho' you befool
enough to commit knaveries, yet you have quicknefs enough to
commit them dextrouily: for this obfervation was to let us into
his chara&er. But now, tho' this be fet right, and, I dare lay.
in Shakefpear's own words, yet the former part of the femence will
flill be inaccurate you lack not folly to commit THEM. Them,
what ? the fenfe requires knaveries, but the antecedent referr'd
to, is complaints. But this was certainly a negligence of Sbaie-
fpear's, and therefore to be leU as we find it. And tho reader,
who cannot fee that this is an inaccuracy which the Author might
well commit, and the other what he never could, has either read
Sbakefpear very little, or greatly mifpent his pains. The prin-
cipal office of a ciicick is to diliingui'h between thefe two thing..
Cut 'da that branch of criticiim which no precepts can teach.
the writer to difcharge, or the reader to judge of.
VOL, III. C Count.
1 8 All's we//, that Ends well.
Count. Thy marriage, fooncr than thy wickedneis.
do. I am out of friends, Madam, and I hope to
have friends for my wife's fake.
Count. Such friends are thine enemies, knave.
Clo. Y* are mallow, Madam, in great friends ; for
the knaves come to do that for me, which I am weary
of; he, that eares my land, {pares my team, and gives
me leave to inne the crop ; if I be his cuckold, he's
my drudge ; he, that comforts my wife, is the che-
rifher of my flem and blood ; he, that cheriflieth my
flem and blood, loves my flelh and blood ; he, that loves
my flefh and blood, is my friend : ergo, he, that
kiifes my wife, is my friend. If men could be con-
tented to be what they are, there were no fear in mar-
riage ; for young Cbarbon the puritan, and old Poyfam
the papift, howfoe'er their hearts are fever'd in reli-
gion, their heads are both one ; they may joul horns
together, like any deer i* th* herd.
Count. Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouth'd and ca-
lumnious knave ?
Clo. * A prophet, I, Madam ; and I fpeak the
truth the next way.
" For I the ballad will repeat, which men full true
fhall find ;
8 Your marriage comes by deftiny, your cuckow (ings
by kind.
2 A prophet, I, Ma Jam ; and 1 fpeak the truth the next way.]
It is a fuperftition, which has run through all ages and people,
that natural fools have fomething in them of divinity. On which
account they were elleemed facred : Travellers tell us in what
efteem the Turks now hold them ; nor had they lefs honour
paid them heretofore in France, as appears from the old word
Benet, for a natural fool. Hence it was that Pantagruel, in
Rablaii, advifed Panurge to go and confult the fool Trtboulet
as an oracle ; which gives occafion to a fatirical Stroke upon
the privy council of Francis the Firft Par favis, conftil, pre-
diftion desfals vos/favez quants princes, &c. ont f/le confer <vez,
&C. The phrafe '/peak the truth the next 'way, means direBly t
as they do who are only the inilruments or canals of others;
fuch as infpired perfons were fuppofed to be.
Count,
All V wet/, that Ends well.
Count. Get you gone, Sir, I'ii talk with you more
anon.
Stew. May it pleafe you, Madam, that he bid
Helen come to you ; of her I am to fpeak.
Count. Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would fpeak;
with her ; Helen I mean.
Go. 3 " Was this fair face the caufe, quoth (he,
" Why the Grecians facked Troy ?
cc Fond done, fond done ; for Paris , he,
" Was this King Priam's joy.
" With that (he fighed as me flood,
" And gave this fentence then ;
" 4 Among nine bad if one be good,
" There's yet one good in ten.
Count. What, one good in ten ? You corrupt the
fong, Sirrah.
Clo. One good woman in ten, Madam, which is
a purifying o'th' fong : 'would, God would ferve the
3 Wai this fair face the caufd, quoth Jhe t
Why the Grecians facked Troy ?
Fond done, fond done ;
Was this King Priam's joy. ~\ This is a Stanza of an old
ballad, out of which a word or two are dropt, equally necefiary
to make the fenfe and the alternate rhime. For it was not Helen,
who was King Priam $ joy, but Paris. The third line therefore
ihould be read thus,
Fond done, fond done ', FOR PARIS, HE.
4 Among nine bad if one le good,
There's yet one good in ten.] This fecond fianzi of the
ballad is turned to a joke upon the women: a confeffion, that
there was one good in ten. Whereon the Countefs obferved, that
he corrupted the fong ; which (hews the fong faid, Nine good in ten,
If one be bad amonpfl nine good,
There""* but one bad in ten.
This relates to the ten fons of Priam, who all behaved themfelves
well but Paris. For, tho' he once had fifty, yet at this unfortu-
nate period of his reign he had but ten ; Agatbon, Antiphon t
Deipbobus, Dius, Heftor, He/eus, Hippothvus, Ptmmon, Paris,
and Polites.
C 2 world
20 All's 'well) that Ends 'well
world fo all the year! we'd find no fault with the
tythe-woman, if I were the Parfon ; one in ten,
quoth a* ! an we might have a good woman born but
every blazing ftar, or at an earthquake, 'twould mend
the lottery well ; a man may draw his heart out, ere
he pluck one.
Count. You'll be gone, Sir knave, and do as I
command you ?
Clo. That man that mould be at a woman's com-
mand, and yet no hurt done ! tho* honefty be no pu-
ritan, yet it will do no hurt -, it will wear the furplis
of humility over the black gown of a big heart: I
am going, forfooth, the bufmefs is for Helen to come
hither. {Exit.
Count. Well, now.
Stew. I know, Madam, you love your gentlewoman
intirely.
Count. Faith, I do; her father bequeath'd her to
me ; and me herfelf, without other advantages, may
lawfully make title to as much love as (he finds ; there
is more owing her, than is paid ; and more mall be
paid her, than fhe'Jl demand.
Stew. Madam, I was very late more near her,
than, I think, me wifh'd me; alone fhe was, and
did communicate to herfelf her own words to her
own ears; me thought, I dare vow for her, they
touch'd not any ftranger fenfe. Her matter was, fhe
lov'd your fon ; Fortune, fhe faid, was no Goddefs,
that had put fuch difference betwixt their two eftates;
Love, no God, that would not extend his might, only
where qualities were level ; 5 Diana 9 no Queen of
Virgins, that would fuffer her poor Knight to be fur-
priz'd without refcue in the firft aiiault, or ranfom
afterward. This {he deliver'd in the mod bitter touch
of forrow, that e'er I heard a virgin exclaim in ;
c Diana added by Mr. Theobald.
which
All's well, that Ends well. 2 1
which I held it my duty fpeedily to acquaint you
withal ; fithence, in the lofs that may happen, it con-
cerns you fomething to know it.
Count. You have difcharg'd this honeftly, keep it
to yourfelf; many likelihoods informed me of this
before, which hung fo tottering in the balance, that
I could neither believe nor mifdoubt; pray you,
leave me ; flail this in your bofom, and I thank you
for your honeft care j I will fpeak with you further
anon. [Exit Steward.
SCENE VII.
Enter Helena.
Count. Ev'n fo it was with me, when I was young ;
If we are nature's, thefe are ours : this thorn
Doth to our rofe of youth rightly belong ;
Our blood to us, this to our blood, is born ;
It is the mow and feal of nature's truth,
Where love's ftrong paffion is impreft in youth ;
By our remembrances of days foregone,
6 Such were our faults, or then we thought them
none.
Her eye is fick on't ; I obferve her now.
Hel. What is your pleafure, Madam ?
Count. Helen^ you know, I am a mother to you.
Hel. Mine honourable miftrefs.
Count. Nay, a Mother ?
Why not a mother ? when I faid a mother,
Methought, you faw a ferpent ; what's in mother,
That you ftart at it ? I fay, I'm your mother ;
6 Such were our faults, o R then ive thought them none ] We
fiiould read,
Of then we thought them none.
A motive for pity and pardon j agreeable to fact, and the indul-
gent chara&er of the fpeaker. This was fenc to the Oxford Editor,
and he altered O, to tko\
G 3 And
22 All's 'well, that Ends well.
And put you in the catalogue of thofe,
That were enwombed mine ; *tis often feen,
Adoption drives with nature ; and choice breeds
7 A native flip to us from foreign feeds.
You ne'er oppreft me with a mother's groan,
Yet I exprefs to you a mother's care :
God's mercy! maiden, do's it curd thy blood,
To fay, I am thy mother ? what's the matter,
That this diftemper'd meflenger of wet,
The many-colour'd Iris, rounds thine eyes ?
Why, that you are my daughter?
Hel. That I am not.
Count. I fay, I am your mother.
Hel. Pardon, Madam.
The Count Roufillon cannot be my brother ;
I am from humble, he from honour'd, name j
No note upon my parents, his all noble.
My matter, my dear lord he is \ and I
His fervant live, and will his vafTal die:
He muft not be my brother.
Cwnt. Nor I your mother ?
Hel. You are my mother, Madam ; 'would you
were,
(So that my lord, your fon, were not my brother)
Indeed, my mother ! 8 or were you both our mothers
(I can no more fear, than I do fear heav'n,)
So
7 A native flip to us from foreign feeds.] The integrity of the
metaphor requires we ftould read STEADS, i. e. flocks, ftools,
(as they are called by the gardeners,) from whence youne; flips or
fuckers are propagated. And it is not unlikely that Sbakefpear
might write it fo.
8 or were you lolb our mothers
/CARE no more FOR, than I do FOR heaven,
So I were not bis /ift er :~\ The fecond line has not the leaft
glimmering of fenfe. Helen, by the indulgence and invitation of her
jniftrefs, is encouraged to diicover the hidden caufe of her grief;
\vhich is the love of her miitrefs's fon; and taking hold of her
words, where fhe bids her call lier mother, Ihe unfolds
the
All's 'welly that Ends well. 23
So I were not his fifter : can't no other,
But I your daughter, he muft be my brother?
Count. Yes, Helen, you might be my daughter-
in-law ;
God fhield, you mean it not, daughter and mother
So flrive upon your pulfe! what, pale again ?
My fear hath catch'd your fondnefs. Now I fee
9 The myftery of your Jonelinefs, and find
Your fait tears* head ; now to all fenfe 'tis grofs,
You love my fon ; invention is afham'd,
Againft the proclamation of thy pafllon,
To fay, thou doft not ; therefore tell me true ;
But tell me then, 'tis fo. For, look, thy cheeks
Confefs it one to th'other ; and thine eyes
See it fo grofly fliown in thy behaviour,
That in their kind they fpeak it : only fin
And hellifli obftinacy tie thy tongue,
That truth mould be fufpefted; fpeak, is't fo?
If it be fo, you've wound a goodly clew :
If it be not, forfwear't ; howe'er, I charge thee,
As heav'n mall work in me for thine avail,
To tell me truly.
Hel. Good Madam, pardon me.
Count. Do you love my fon ?
Hel. Your pardon, noble miftrefs.
Count. Love you my fon ?
Hel. Dtf-not you love him, Madam ?
Count. Go not about ; my love hath in't a bond,
the myjlery: and, as (he is difcovering it, emboldens herfelf by this
reflexion, in the line in queftioff, as it ought to be read in a paren-
thefis,
(7 CAN no more FEAR, than 1 do TEAR heaven,)
i. e. I can no more fear to truft fo indulgent a miftrefs with the
fecret than I can fear heav'n who has my vows for its happy iffue.
This break, in her difcovery, is exceeding pertinent and fine.
Here again the Oxford Editor does his part.
9 The myjlery of your lovelinefs,] We fhould read lonelinefs, or
delight in foiitude, as is the humour of lovers.
C 4 Whereof
All's well, that Ends well.
Whereof the world takes note : come, come, difclofe
The ftate of your affection 5 for your paflions
Have to the full appeach'd.
HeL Then, I confefs,
Here on my knee, before high heav'ns and you,
That before you, and next unto high heav'n,
I love your fon :
My friends were poor, but hcnelt ; fo's my love ;
Be not offended ; for it hurts not him,
That he is lov'd of me ; I follow him not
By any token of prefumptuous fuit ;
Nor would I have him, 'till I do defcrve him ;
Yet never know, how that defert lhall be.
I know, I love in vain ; ftrive againft hope j
Yet, in this captious and intenible fieve,
1 dill pour in the waters of my love,
And lack not to lofe ftill ; thus, Indian-]'ike y
Religious in mine error, I adore
The fun that looks upon his worfhipper,
But knows of him no more. My deareft Madam >
Let not your hate incounter with my love,
For loving where you do ; but if yourfdf,
Whofe aged honour cites a virtuous youth,
Did ever in fo true a flame of liking
Wiih chaflly, and love dearly, that your Dian
Was both herfelf and love ; O then, give pity
To her, whofe ftate is fuch, that cannot chufe
But lend, and give, where me is fure to lofe ;
That feeks not to find that, which fearch implies ;
But, riddle-like, lives fweetly, where ihe dies.
Count. Had you not lately an intent, fpeak truly,
To go to Paris ?
Hel Madam, I had.
Count. Wherefore ? tell true.
HeL I will tell truth ; by Grace itfelf, I (wear.
You know, my father left me fome prefcriptions
Of rare and prov'd effects ; fuch as his reading
And
All's 'welly that Ends 'well. 25
And manifeft experience had collected
For general fov'reignty ; and that he wilPd me,
In heedfull'ft refervation to beftow them,
As notes, whofe faculties inclufive were,
More than they were in note : amongft the reft,
There is a remedy, approv'd, fet down,
To cure the defperate languimings, whereof
The King is rendered loft.
Count. This was your motive for Paris, was it,
fpeak ?
Hel. My lord your fon made me to think of this 5
Elfe Paris, and the medicine, and the King,
Had from the converfation of my thoughts,
Haply been abfent then.
Count. But think you, Helen,
If you mould tender your " fuppofed aid,
He would receive it ? he and his phyficians
Are of a mind j he, that they cannot help him :
They, that they cannot help. How mail they credit
A poor unlearned virgin, when z the fchools,
Embowell'd of their doctrine, have left off
The danger to itfelf ?
Hel. 3 There's fomething hints
More than my father's skill, (which was the great'ft
i fuppofed aid,'] fuppofed for propping, fupporting.
2 the fcbools
Embowell'd of their doftrine, ] the expreffion is beauti-
fully fatirical, and implies, that the theories of the fchcols are
fpun out of the bowels of the profeffors, like the cobwebs of the
ipider.
3 There's fomething IN'T
More than my father's skill
that his good receipt, &c.] Here is an inference,
[that~\ without any thing preceeding, to which it refers, which
makes the fentence vicious, and fhews that we fhould read,
Theris fame thing HINTS
More than my fathers skill,
that his good receipt -
i> t, I have a fecret premonition or preface.
Of
26 All's well, that Ends well.
Of his ProfefTion,) that his good receipt
Shall for my legacy be fanctified
By th' Juckieft ftars in heav'n ; and, would your honour
But give me Jeave to try fuccefs, I'd venture
The well-loft life of mine on his Grace's Cure,
By fuch a day and hour.
Count. Doft thou believ't ?
Hel. Ay, Madam, knowingly.
Count. Why, Helen, thou malt have my leave and
love ;
Means and attendants ; and my loving greetings
To thofe of mine in Court. I'll ftay at home,
And pray God's blefiing into thy attempt :
Begone, to morrow ; and be fure of this,
What I can help thee to, thou malt not mifs.
\_Exeunt.
ACT II. SCENE I.
ffie Court of F R A N c E.
Enter the King, with divers young Lords taking leave
for the Florentine war. Bertram and Parolles.
Flourijh Cornets.
KING.
FArewel, young Lords : thefe warlike principles
Do not throw from you : you, my Lords,' farewel -,
Share the advice betwixt you. If both gain,
The gift doth ftretch itfelf as 'tis receiv'd,
And is enough for both.
i Lord. 'Tis our hope, Sir,
After well-enter'd foldiers, to return
And find your Grace in health.
King.
All's 'well, that Ends well.
King. No, no, it cannot be ; and yet my heart
Will not confefs, it owns the malady
That doth my life befiege ; farewel, young Lords ;
Whether I live or die, be you the fons
Of worthy Frenchmen ; * let higher Italy
(Thofe 'bated, that inherit but the Fall
Of the laft Monarchy ;) fee, that you come
Not to woo honour, but to wed it ; when
The -braveft Queftant mrinks, find what you feek,
That Fame may cry you loud : I fay, farewel.
2 Lord. Health at your bidding ferve your Majefty !
King. Thofe girls of Italy, take heed of them ;
They fay, our French lack language to deny,
If they demand : beware of being captives,
Before you ferve.
Both. Our hearts receive your warnings.
King. Farewel. Come hither to me. [To Attendants.
TExit.
1 Lord. Oh, my fweet Lord, that you will ftay
behind us!
Par. 'Tis not his fault ; the fpark
2 Lord. Oh, 'tis brave wars.
1 let higher Italy
(Thofe bated, that inherit but the Fall
Of the lajl Monarchy^ fee, &c.] This is obfcure. Italy,
at the time of this fcene, was under three very different tenures.
The emperor, as fucceffor of the Roman emperors, had one part;
the pope, by a pretended donation from Confiantine, another ; and
the third was compos'd of free ftates. Now by the lajl monarchy
is meant the Roman, the laft of the four general monarchies.
Upon the fall of this monarchy, in the fcramble, feveral cities fet
up for themfelves, and became free ftates: now thefe might be
faid properly to inherit the fall of the monarchy. This being
premifed, let us now confider fenfe. The King fays, higher
Italy ; giving it the rank of preference to France ; but he cor-
rects himfelf and fays, I except thofe from that precedency, who
only inherit the fall of the laft monarchy ; as all the little petty
ftates j for inftance, Florence co whom thefe voluntiers were going.
As if he had faid, I give the place of honour to the emperor and
the pope, but not to tne free ftates.
Par.
28 All's well, that Ends 'well.
Par. Moft admirable j I have feen thofe wars.
Ber. I am commanded here, and kept a coil with,
fooyoungi and the next year, and 'tis too early.' -
Par. An thy mind ftand to it, boy, fteal away
bravely.
Ber. Shall I flay here the forehorfe to a fmock,
Creeking my fhoes on the plain mafonry,
'Till Honour be bought up, and no fword worn
But one to dance with ? by heav'n I'll fteal away.
1 Lord. There's honour in the theft.
Par. Commit it, Count.
2 Lord. I am your accefiary, and fo farewel.
Ber. I grow to you, and our parting is a tortur'd
body.
1 Lord. Farewel, Captain.
2 Lord. Sweet Monfieur Parolles !
Par. Noble heroes, my fword and yours are kin ;
good fparks and luftrous. A word, good metals. You
fhall find in the regiment of the Spinii^ one captain
Spurio with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here on
his finifter cheek; it was this very fword entrench'd
it; fay to him, I live, and obferve his reports of
me.
2 Lord. We fhall, noble captain.
Par. Mars doat on you for his novices ! what will
ye do?
Ber. Stay ; the King \_Exeunt Lords.
Par. Ufe a more fpacious ceremony to the noble
Lords, you have reftrain'd yourfelf within the lift of
too cold an adieu ; be more expreflive to them, for
* they wear themfelves in the cap of the time, there,
to mufter true gate, eat, fpeak, and move under the
influence
2 they ivcar tbemfefaet in the cap of tke time, there., DO mufter
true gate, &c.] The main obfcurityof this pafiage arifes from the
miitake of a fingle letter. We fhould read, inflead of, do tnujler,
T o mufler. To ivear themfefaes in the cap of the time, fignifies
to be the foremoft in the fafhion : the figurative allufion is to the
galanrry
All's we!!, that Ends 'well. 29
influence of the moft receiv'd flar , and tho* the
devil lead the meafure, fuch are to be follow'd : after
them, and take a more dilated farewel.
Ber. And I will do fo.
Par. Worthy fellows, and like to prove moft fi-
nevvy fword-men. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Enter the King^ and Lafeu.
Laf. Pardon, my Lord, for me and for my tidings.
King. I'll fee thee to ftand up.
Laf. Then here's a man Hands, that hath bought
his pardon.
I would, you had kneePd, my Lord, to ask me mercy 5
And that at my bidding you could fo ftand up.
King. I would, I had ; fo I had broke thy pate,
And ask'd thee mercy for't.
Laf. Good faith, acrofs: -but, my good Lord,
'tis thus ;
Will you be cur'd of your infirmity ?
King. No.
Laf. O, will you eat no grapes, my royal fox?
Yes, but you will, an if
My royal fox could reach them : I have feen a me-
dicine^
That's able to breathe life into a ftonej
Quicken a rock, and make you dance Canary
With fprightly fire and motion ; whofe fimpie touch
Is powerful to araife King Pcpin, nay,
To give great Charlemain a pen in's hand,
And write to her a love-line.
King. What her is this ?
galantry then in vogue, of wearing jewels, flowers, and their
miftrefs's favours in their caps. there to mufter true gate, fig-
nifies to aflemble tegether in the high road of the fafhion. All
the reft is intelligible and eafy.
Laf.
30 Alfs well, float Ends well.
Laf. Why, doctor-me: my Lord, there's one ar-
riv'd,
If you will fee her. Now, by my faith and honour,
If ferioufly I may convey my thoughts
In this my light deliverance, I have fpoke
With one, that in her fex, 3 her years, profeflion,
Wifdom and conftancy, hath amaz'd me more
Than I dare blame my weaknefs : will you fee her,
For that is her Demand, and know her bufmefs ?
That done, laugh well at me.
King. Now, good Laftu,
Bring in the admiration, that we with thee
May fpend our wonder too, or take off thine,
By wond'ring how thou took'fl: it.
Laf. Nay, I'll fit you,
And not be all day neither. [Exit La feu.
King. Thus he his fpecial nothing ever prologues.
Laf. [Returns.] Nay, corae your ways.
[Bringing in Helena.
King. This hade hath wings, indeed.
Laf. Nay, come your ways,
This is his Majefty, fay your mind to him ;
A traitor you do look like ; but fuch traitors
His Majefty feldom fears ; I'm Crejfid's uncle,
That dare leave two together; fare you well. [Exit.
SCENE III.
King. Now, fair One, do's your bufmefs follow us ?
Hel. Ay, my good Lord.
Gerard de Narbon was my father,
In what he did profefs, well found.
King. I knew him.
Hel. The rather will I fpare my praife toward him ;
Knowing him, is enough : on's bed of death
3 her years, profeffion ,] By profejfion is meant her declaration
of the end and purpofe of her coming.
Many
All's well, that Ends well
Many receipts he gave me, chiefly one,
Which as the deareft iffue of his practice,
And of his old experience th'only darling,
He bade me ftore up, as a triple eye,
Safer than mine own two : more dear I have fo ;
And hearing your high Majefty is touch'd
With that malignant caufe, wherein the honour
Of my dear father's gift ftands chief in power,
I come to tender it, and my appliance,
With all bound humblenefs.
King. We thank you, maiden ;
But may not be fo credulous of cure,
When our mofl learned doctors leave us ; and
The congregated college have concluded,
That labouring art can never ranfom nature
From her unaidable eftate: we muft not
So (lain our judgment, or corrupt our hope,
To proftitute our paft-cure malady
To empericks ; or to diffever fo
Our great felf and our credit, to efteem
A fenfelefs help, when help pail fenfe we deem.
Hel. My duty then fhall pay me for my pains ;
I will no more enforce mine office on you ;
Humbly intreating from your royal thoughts
A modeft one to bear me back again.
King. I cannot give thee lefs, to be call'd grateful ;
Thou thought'ft to help me, and fuch thanks I give,
As one near death to thofe that wifh him live 5
But what at full I know, thou know'ft no part ;
I knowing all my peril, thou no art.
Hel. What I can do, can do no hurt to try,
Since you fet up your reft 'gainfl remedy.
He that of greateft works is finiiher,
Oft does them by the weakeft minifter:
So holy writ in babes hath judgment mown,
When judges have been babes; great floods have
flown
From
32 dll's well, that Ends 'well.
From fimple fources ; and great feas have dry'd,
When mir'cles have by th 1 greateft been deny'd.
Oft expectation fails, and mod oft there
Where mod it promifes : and oft it hits
Where hope is coldeft, and defpair moft fits.
King. I mud not hear thee ; fare thee well, kind
Maid ;
Thy pains, not us'd, muft by thyfelf be paid :
Proffers, not took, reap thanks for their reward.
Hel. Infpired merit fo by breath is barr'd :
It is not fo with him that all things knows,
As 'tis with us, that fquare our guefs by fhows :
But moft it is prefumption in us, when
The help of heav'n we count the ad: of men.
Dear Sir, to my endeavours give confent,
Of heav'n, not me, make an experiment.
I am not an impoflor, that proclaim
4 Myfelf againft the level of mine aim ;
But know I think, and think I know moft fure,
My art is not paft power, nor you paft cure.
King. Art thou fo confident? within what fpace
Hop'ft thou my cure ?
Hel. The greateft grace lending grace,
Ere twice the horfes of the fun ihall bring
Their fiery torcher his diurnal ring ;
Ere twice in murk and occidental damp
Moift Hefperus hath quench'd his fleepy lamp ;
Or four and twenty times the pilot's glafs
Hath told the thievifh minutes how they pafs ;
What is infirm from your found parts mail fly,
Health mail live free, and ficknefs freely die.
King. Upon thy certainty and confidence.
What dar'ft thou venture?
Hel. Tax of impudence,
4 Myfelf 'again/1 the hvel of mine aim ;1 *'. e. pretend to greater
things than befits the mediocrity of my condition.
A
All's well, tlat Ends well 33
A ftrumpet's boldnefs, a divulged fhame
Traduc'd by odious ballads: my maiden's name
Sear'd otherwife, no worfe of worft extended j
With vileft torture let my life be ended.
King. s Methinks, in thee ibme bleffed Spirit doth
{peak :
His power full founds within an organ weak i
And what impofiibility would flay
In common fenfe, fenfe faves another way.
Thy life is dear ; for all that life can rate
Worth name of life, in thee hath eftimate:
6 Youth, beauty, wifdom, courage, virtue, all
That happinefs and prime can happy call ;
Thou this to hazard, needs muft intimate
Skill infinite, or monftrous defperate.
Sweet Praclifer, thy phyfick 1 will try*
That minifters thine own death, if I die.
Hel. If I break time, or flinch in property
Of what I fpoke, unpitied let me die,
And well deferv'd ! Not helping* death's my fee 5
But if I help, what do you promife me ?
5 Me thinks, in thee fame bleJJ'ed fpirit doth fpeak
His powerful found, within an organ weak;"] fpeak a
found is a barbarifm : For to fpeak fignifies to utter an articulatt
iound, i. e. a voice. So Shakejpear, in Lories Labour Lojl, fays
with propriety, And when love fpeaks the voice of all the Gods.
To fpeak a found therefore is improper, tho' to utter a found is not ;
becauie the word utter may be applied either to an articulate or inar-
ticulate. Befides, the conftruftion is vicious with the two ablatives,
in thee, and, within an organ tweak. The lines therefore fhould be
thus read and pointed,
Methittki, in tkee fame bhjfed fpirit doth fpeak :
ffts poiver full founds within an organ weak .
But the Oxford Editor would be only fo far beholden to this emen*
dation, as to enable him to make fenfe of the lines another way,
whatever become of the n^es of criticifm or ingenuous dealing.
It powerful founds within an organ weak.
6 Youth, Beauty, wifdum, courage, all'} The verfe wants a foot*
VIRTUE, by mifchance, has dropt out ot the line.
VOL. Ill, D
34 All's 'well, that Ends
King. 7 Make thy demand.
//<?/, But will you make it even ?
King. Ay, by my fcepter, and my hopes of heaven.
He/. Then fhalt thou give me, with thy kingly hand,
What Husband in thy power I will command.
Exempted be from me the arrogance
To chufe from forth the royal blood of France ;
My low and humble name to propagate
* With any branch or impage of thy (late :
But fuch a one thy vafial, whom I know
Is free for me to ask, thee to beflow.
King. Here is my hand, the premifes obferv'd,
Thy will by my performance mail be ferv'd :
So, make the choice of thine own time ; for I,
Thy refolv'd Patient, on thee ftill rely.
More mould I queftion thee, and more I muft;
(Tho* more to know, could not be more to truft :)
From whence thou cam'ft, how tended on, but reft
Unqueftion'd welcome, and undoubted bleft.
Give me fome help here, hoa ! if thou proceed
As high as word, my deed lhall match thy deed.
[Exeunt.
7 King. Make thy demand.
Hel. Butivil/you make it even?
King. Ay, by my fcepter and my hopes of help.] The King
could have but a very flight hope of help from her, fcarce enough
to fwear by: and therefore Helen might fufpeft he meant to
equivocate with her. Befides, obferve, the greateft part of thr
fcene is ftriftly in rhyme, and there is no fhadow of reafon why
it fhould be interrupted here. I rather imagine the poet wrote,
jty t by my fcepter, and my hopes of heaven. Dr. Tbirlby.
8 With any branch er IMAGE of thy ft ate :\ Shakefpsar un-
queftionably wrote IMP ACE, grafting. IMPE a graff, or flip,
or fucker: by which {he means one of the fons of Franct. So
C ax ton calls our Prince Arthur, that noble IMPE offamt.
SCENE
'welly that Ends 'well,
SCENE IV.
Changes to Roufillon.
Enter Countefs and Clown.
Count. f~*- O M E on, Sir ; J fhall now put you Co
V_J the height of your breeding,
Clo. I will mew myfelf highly fed, and lowly
taught j I know, my bufmefs is but to the court.
Count. But to the court? why, what place make
you fpecial, when you put off that with fuch con-
tempt ; but to the court!
Clo. Truly, Madam, if God have lent a man
any manners, he may eafily put it off at court : he
that cannot make a leg, put orFs cap, kifs his hand,
and fay nothing, has neither leg, hands, lip, nor cap ;
and, indeed, fuch a fellow, to fay precifely, were not
for the court : but for me, I have an anfwer will ferve
all men.
Count. Marry, that's a bountiful anfwer that fits
aJl queftions.
Clo. It is like a barber's chair, that fits all buttocks ;
the pin-buttock, the quatch- buttock, the brawn-
buttock, or any buttock.
Count. Will your anfwer ferve fit to all queftions?
Clo. As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an attor-
ney, as your French crown for your taffaty punk, as
T^'s rum for Tom's fore-finger, as a pancake for
Shrove-Tuefday, a morris for May-day, as the nail to
his hole, the cuckold to his horn, as a fcolding quean
to a wrangling knave, as the nun's lip to the friar's
mouth ; nay, as the pudding to his skin.
Count. Have you, I fay, an anfwer of fuch fitneis
for all queftions?
Clo. From below your duke, to beneath your
conftable, it will fit any queftion.
D 2 Count.
36 All's well, that Ends well
Count. It muft be an anfwer of moft monftrous fize,
that muft fit all demands.
Clo. But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned
fhould fpeak truth of it : here it is, and all that be-
longs to't. Ask me, if I am a courtier j it fhall
do you no harm to learn.
Count. To be young again, if we could : I will
be a fool in a queftion, hoping to be the wifer by
your anfwer. I pray you, Sir, are you a courtier ?
Clo. 9 lord, Sir < there's a fimplc putting off:
more, more, a hundred of them.
Count. Sir, I am a poor friend of yours, that loves
you.
Clo. O lord, Sir thick, thick, fpare not me.
Count. I think, Sir, you can eat none of this homely
meat.
Clo. lord, Sir- -nay, put me to't, I warrant
you.
Count. You were lately whip'd, Sir, as I think.
Clo. O lord, Sir fpare not me.
Count. Do you cry, O lord, Sir, at your whipping,
and fpare not me ? indeed, your O lord, Sir, is very
fequent to your whipping: you would anfwer very
well to a whipping, if you were but bound to't.
Clo. I ne'er had worfe luck in my life, in my O
lord, Sir ; I fee, things may ferve long, but not ferve
ever.
Count. I play the noble hufwife with the time, to
entertain it fo merrily with a fool.
Clo. O lord. Sir why, there't ferves well again.
Count. An end, Sir ; to your bufinefs : give Helen this,
And urge her to a prefent anfwer back.
Commend me to my kinfmen, and my fon :
This is not much.
9 O lord, Sir, ] A ridicule on that foolilh expletive of fpeech
then in vogue at court.
Clo.
AlTs well, that Ends 'well. 37
Go. Not much commendation to them ?
Count. Not much imployment for you, you un-
derftand me.
Clo. Moft fruitfully, I am there before my legs.
Count. Hafte you again. [Exeunt,
SCENE V.
Changes to the Court of France.
Enter Bertram, Lafeu, and Parolles.
Laf. Tp HEY fay, miracles are paftj and we have
A our philofophical perfons to make modern,
and familiar, things fupernatural and caufelefs. Hence
is it, that we make trifles of terrors ; enfconfing our
felves into feeming knowledge, when we fhould fub-
mit our felves to an ' unknown fear.
Par. Why, 'tis the rareft argument of wonder
that hath (hot out in our later times.
Bcr. And fo 'tis.
Laf. To be relinquifh'd of the artifts
* Par. So I fay, both of Galen and Paracetfus.
Laf. Of all the learned and authentick Fellows ~
Par. Right, fo I fay.
Laf. That gave him out incurable,
Par. Why, there 'tis, fo fay I too.
Laf.
1 unknown fear.] Unknown for fupernatural.
2 Par. So I fay, both of Galen and Paracelfut.
Laf. Of all the learned and authentick fellanus. ] Sbale-
fpear, as I have often obferved, never throws out his words at
random. Paracelfus, tho' no better than an ignorant and knavifh
enthufiaft was at this time in fuch vogue, even amongft the learned,
that lie had almoft juftled Galen and the ancients out of credit.
On this account learned is applied to Galen ; and authentick or
fafhionable to Paracelfus. Sancy, in his ConfeJJlon Catholique,
p. 301. Ed. Col. 1720, is made to fay, Je trouve la Riviere pre-
mier Medtcin, dt mtilleure bumeur que ces vens-la. 11 eft ban Ga-
D 3 leniftc,
/: <o
/wo <r L SL.
3 8 4ll's well, that Ends well.
Laf. Not to be help'd,
Par. Right, as 'twere a man affur'd of an *
af. Uncertain life, and fure death,
Par. Juft, you fay well : fo would I have faid.
Laf. I may truly fay, it is a novelty to the world.
Par. It is, indeed, if you will have it in mewing,
you (hall read it in, what do you call there
Laf. * A Jhewing of a heav'nly effeft in an earthly
effor.
Par. That's it, I would have faid the very fame.
Laf. Why, your dolphin is not luftier : for me, I
{peak in refpect
Par. Nay, 'tis ftrange, 'tis very ftrange, that is
the brief and the tedious of it ; and he's of a moft fa-
cinerious fpirit, that will not acknowledge it to be
the
Laf. Very hand of heav'n.
Par. Ay, fo I fay.
Laf. In a mod weak
Par. And debile minifter, great power, great tran-
fcendence; 4 which mould, indeed, give us * * * a
farther ufe to be made than alone the recov'ry ^of the
King j as to be
Laf. Generally thankful.
lenifte, fcf tres Ion Paracelfifte. // dit que !a doBrine de Galien
eft honorable, & non mefprifable pour la patbologie, & profitable
four les Boutiques. Uautre, pour-veit qtie ce foil de niraii preceptes
dt Paracelfe, eft bonne a fuivre pour la verite, pour la lubtilite,
pour Tefpargnej en fomme pour la Therapeutique.
3 AJbewing of a keav'nty ejfefi, &:c.] The title of fome pam-
phlet here ridiculed.
4 nvbtib Jhould, indeed, give us a farther vfe !o be made, &c. J
Between the words us and a farther, there feems to have been
two or three words dropt, which appear to have been to this
purpofe Jhould, indeed, give us [notice, that there is of this,] a
farther ufe to be made fo that the pafiage fhould be read with
afterisks for the future.
SCENE
All's well, flat Ends well .39
SCENE VI.
Enter King, Helena, and Attendants.
Par. I would have faid it, you faid well: here
comes the King.
Laf. Luftick, as the Dutchman fays: I'll like a
Maid the better, while I have a tooth in my head :
why, he's able to lead her a Corranto.
Par. Mort du Vinaigre ! is not this Helen ?
Laf. 'Fore God, I think fo.
King. Go, call before me all the Lords in court.
Sit, my preferver, by thy patient's fide;
And with this healthful hand, whofe banifh'd fenfe
Thou haft repealed, a fecond time receive
The confirmation of my promised gift ;
Which but attends thy naming.
Enter three or four Lords.
Fair maid, fend forth thine eye ; this youthful parcel
Of noble batchelors ftand at my beftowing,
O*er whom both fov'reign power and father's voice
I have to ufe ; thy frank election make ;
Thou haft power to chufe, and they none to forfake.
Hel. To each of you one fair and virtuous miftrefs
Fall, when love pleafe! marry, to each but one.
Laf. I'd give bay curtal and his furniture,
My mouth no more were broken than thefe boys,
And writ as little beard.
King. Perufe them well :
Not one of thofe, but had a noble father.
[She addrejfis herfelf to a Lord.
Hel. Gentlemen, heaven hath, through me, reftor'd
The King to health.
dll. We underftand it, and thank heaven for you.
Hel. I am a fimple maid, and therein wealthieft,
That, I proteft, I limply am a maid. -
D 4 Pleafe
All's well, that Ends well.
Pleafe it your Majefty, I have done already :
The blufhes in my cheeks thus whifper me,
We blufh that thou fhould'ft chuie, but be refus'd j
J Let the white death fit on thy cheek for ever,
We'll ne'er come there again.
King. Make choice, and fee,
Who fhuns thy love, fhuns all his love in me.
Hel. Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly,
* And to impartial Love, that God moft high,
Do my fighs ftream: Sir, will you hear my fuit?
j Lord. And grant it.
Hel. Thanks, Sir -, all the reft is mute.
Laf. I had rather be in this choice, than throw
ames-ace for my life.
Hel The honour, Sir, that flames in your fair eyes.,
Before I fpeak, too threatningly replies:
Love make your fortunes twenty times above
Her that fo wifhes, and her humble love !
2 Lord. No better, if you pleafe.
Htl* My wim receive,
Which great Love grant ! and fo I take my leave.
Laf. Do all they deny her? if they were fons of
mine, I'd have them whipt, or I would fend them
to the Turk to make eunuchs of.
Hel. Be not afraid that I your hand fliould take,
I'll never do you wrong for your own fake :
Blefiing upon your vows, and in your bed
Find fairer fortune, if you ever wed !
Laf. Thefe boys are boys of ice, they'll none of
her : fure, they are baftards to the Englift> 9 the French
De'er got *em.
5 Let the luh'ite DEATH^V on thy cheek for ever,] Shakefpear,
I think, wrote DEARTH; /. e. want of blood, or more figura-
tively barrennefs, want of fruit or iflue.
6 dnd to IMPERIAL Love,] The old editions read IMPAR-
TIAL, which is right. Love who has no regard to difference of
condition, but yokes together high and low, which was her cafe.
lid.
All's well, that Ends 'well. 41
Hel. You are too young, too happy, and too good,
To make yourfelf a fon out of my blood.
4 Lord. Fair one, I think not fo.
7 Laf. There's one grape yet,
Par. I am fure, thy father drunk wine.'
Laf. But if thou be'eft not an afs, I am a
Youth of fourteen. J have known thee already.
Hel. I dare not fay, I take you ; but I give
Me and my fervice, ever whilft I live,
Into your guided power : this is the man.
[fo Bertram.
King. Why then ; young Bertram^ take her, fhe's
thy wife.
Ber. My wife, my Liege ? I mall befeech your
Highnefs,
In fuch a bufinefs give me leave to ufe
The help of mine own eyes.
King. Know'ft thou not, Bertram*
What fhe hath done for me?
Ber. Yes, my good Lord,
But never hope to know why I mould marry her.
King. Thou know'ft, fhe has rais'd me from my
fickly bed.
Ber. But follows it, my Lord, to bring me down
Muft anfwer for your raifing ? I know her well :
She had her breeding at my father's charge :
A poor phyfician's daughter my wife! Difdain
Rather corrupt me ever!
King. 'Tis only title thou difdain'ft in her, the which
I can build up : ftrange is it, that our bloods,
Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together,
Would quite confound diftinclion, yet ftand off
In differences, fo mighty. If {he be
All that is virtuous (fave what thou diflik'fl
A poor phyfician's daughter,) thou diflik'ft
7 Tber is one grape yet, ] I have here regulated the fpeeches
as they ought to be.
Of
42 All's well, that Ends 'well.
Of virtue for the name: but do not fo.
From loweft place (a} when virtuous things proeeed>
The place is dignify'd by th' doer's deed.
Where great addition fwells, and virtue none,
1 1 is a dropfied honour ; 8 good alone
Is good ; and, with a name, vilenefs is fo :
The property by what it is fhould go,
Not by the title. 9 She is good, wile, fair ;
In thefe, to nature fhe's immediate heir ;
And thefe breed honour : That is honour's fcorn,
Which challenges itfelf as honour's born,
And
It good without a name. Vilenefs is fo :J The text is here
corrupted into nonfenfe. We fhould read
Is good ; and, with a name, vilenefs is fo.
i. e. good is good, tho' there be no addition of title; and vilenefs
is vilenefs, tho' there be. The Oxford Editor, underflanding no-
thing of this, ftrikes out vilenefs and puts in its place, intfelf.
q ___~. She is YOUNG, wife, fair ;
In thefe, to nature Jhe*s immediate heir ;
jind thefe breed honour -, ] The objeftion was, that Helen
had neither riches nor title : To this the King replies, fhe's the
immediate heir of nature, from whom fhe inherits youth, wifdom,
and beauty. The thought is fine. For by the immediate heir to
nature, we muft underftand one who inherits wifdom and beauty
in a fupreme degree. From hence it appears that young is a faulty
reading, for that does not, like wifdom and beauty, admit of dif-
ferent degrees of excellence ; therefore fhe could not, with regard
to that, be faid to be the immediate heir of nature; for in that fhe
was only joint-heir with all the reft of her fpecies. Befides, tho*
uiifdom and beauty may breed honour, yet youth cannot be faid to
do fo. On the contrary, it is age which has this advantage. It
feems probable that fome foolifh player when he tranfcribed this
part, not apprehending the thought, and wondring to find youth
not reckoned amongft the good qualities of a woman when fhe
xvas propofed to a lord, and not confidering that it was comprifed
in the word fair, foifted in young, to the exclufion of a word much
more to the purpofe. For I make no queilion but Sbakefpear
wrote,
She is GOOD, wife, fair.
For
[ ( a ] nvben, Dr. Thirlby vulg. whence."}
All's well, that Ends 'well. 43
And is not like the fire. Honours beft thrive,
When rather from our a6ts we them derive
Than our fore-goers : the mere word's a flave
Debaucht on every tomb, on ev'ry grave 5
A lying trophy ; * and as oft is dumb,
Where duft and damn'd oblivion is the tomb
Of honour'd bones, indeed. What mould be faid ?
If thou can'ft like this creature as a maid,
I can create the reft : virtue and me,
Is her own dow'r ; honour and wealth from me.
Ber. I cannot love her, nor will drive to do't.
King. Thou wrong'ft thyfelf, if thou fhould'ft ftrive
to chufe.
Hel. That you are well reftor'd, my lord, I'm glad :
Let the reft go.
King. My honour's at the flake; which to (a} defend,
I muft produce my power. Here, take her hand,
Proud fcornful boy, unworthy this good gift !
That doth in vile mifprifion fhackle up
My love, and her defert ; that canft not dream,
We, poizing us in her defective fcale,
Shall weigh thee to the beam ; that wilt not know,
It is in us to plant thine honour, where
We pleafe to have it grow. Check thy contempt :
Obey our will, which travels in thy good ;
For the greateft part of her encomium turned upon her virtue. To
omit this therefore in the recapitulation of her qualities, had been
againil all the rules of good fpeaking. Nor let it be objefted that
this is requiring an exaftnefs in our author which we fliould not
expeft. For he who could reafon with the force our author doth
here, (and we ought always to diftinguifh between Shake/pear on
his guard and in his rambles) and illuftrate that reafoning with
fuch beauty of thought and propriety of expreffion, could never
make ufe of a word which quite deftroyed the exa&nefs of his
reafoning, the propriety of his thought, and the elegance of his
expreffion.
i Commas and points here fet exaftly right by Mr. Theobald.
[ ( fl ) dtftnd t Mr. Theobald vulg. defeat.'}
Believe
44 All's 'well, that Ends 'well.
Believe not thy difdain, but prefently
Do thine own fortunes that obedient right,
Which both thy duty owes, and our power claims ;
Or I wiJJ throw thee from my care for ever
Into the daggers, and the carelefs lapfe
Of youth and ignorance 5 my revenge and hate
Looting upon thee in the name of juftice,
Without all terms of pity. Speak, thine anfwer.
Ber. Pardon, my gracious Lord ; for I fubmit
My fancy to your eyes. When I confider,
What great creation, and what dole of honour
Flies where you bid ; I find, that me, which late
Was in my nobler thoughts mod bafe, is now
* The prifed of the King ; who, fo enobled,
Is, as 'twere, born fo.
King. Take her by the hand,
And tell her, me is thine: to whom I promife
A counterpoize -, if not in thy eftate,
A balance more repleat.
Ber. I take her hand.
King. Good fortune and the favour of the King
Smile upon this contract} whofe ceremony
Shall feem expedient on the new-born brief,
And be perform'd to night ; the folemn feaft
Shall more attend upon the coming fpace,
Expecting abfent friends. As thou lov'ft her,
Thy love's to me religious; elfe does err. [Exeunt.
SCENE VII.
Manent Parolles and Lafeu.
Laf. Do you hear, Monfieur? a word with you.
Par. Your pleafure, Sir ?
2 The PRAISED of the King;"] We (hould read PRISED, /'. e.
valued, held in eftimation, and anfwers to mojl bafe in the preceding
line.
Laf.
All's wtll> that Ends well. 45
Laf. Your Lord and Matter did well to make his
recantation.
Par. Recantation ? my Lord ? my Matter ?
Laf. Ay, is it not a language I fpeak ?
Par. A moft harfh one, and not to be underftood
without bloody fucceeding. My matter?
Laf. Are you companion to the Count Roufillon ?
Par. To any Count j to all Counts -, to what is
man.
Laf. To what is Count's man ; Count's matter is
of another ftile.
Par. You are too old, Sir; let it fatisfie you, you
are too old -
Laf. I mutt tell thee, Sirrah, I write man ; to
which title age cannot bring thee.
Par. What I dare too well do, I dare not do.
Laf. I did think thee, for two ordinaries, to be a
pretty wife fellow ; thou didft make tolerable vent of
thy travel ; it might pafs ; yet the fcarfs and the ban-
nerets about thee did manifoldly difiuade me from be-
Jieving thee a veflel of too great a burthen. I have
now found thee ; when I lofe thee again, I care not :
yet art thou good for nothing but taking up, and that
thou'rt fcarce worth.
Par. Hadft thou not the privilege of antiquity upon
thee
Laf. Do not plunge thyfelf too far in anger, left
thou haften thy tryal ; which if, Lord have
mercy on thee for a hen! fo, my good window of
lattice, fare thee well ; thy cafement I need not open,
I look thro* thee. Give me thy hand.
Par. My Lord, you give me moft egregious in-
dignity.
Laf. Ay, with all my heart, and thou art worthy
of it.
Par. \ have not, my Lord, dcfcrv'd it.
/.
46 All's well, that Ends
Laf. Yes, good faith, ev'ry dram of it ; and I will
not bate thee a fcruple.
Par. Well, I mall be wifer
Laf. Ev'n as foon as thou can'ft, for thou haft to
pull at a fmack o'th' contrary. If ever thou beeft
bound in thy fcarf and beaten, thou lhalt find what
it is to be proud of thy bondage. I have a defire to
hold my acquaintance with thee, or rather my know-
ledge, that I may fay in the default, he is a man I
know.
Par. My Lord, you do me moft infupportable
vexation.
Laf. I would, it were hell-pains for thy fake, and
my poor doing eternal : 3 for doing, I am paft ; * * *
as I will by thee, in what motion age will give me
leave. [Exit.
Par. + Well, thou haft a fon mall take this di
grace off me ; fcurvy, old, filthy, fcurvy Lord !
well, I muft be patient, there is no fettering of au-
thority. I'll beat him, by my life, if I can meet him
with any convenience, an he were double and double
a Lord. I'll have no more pity of his age, than I
would have of -I'll beat him, an if I could but
meet him again.
3 for doing I am fafl ; as I laill ly thee, in what motion age
will give me leave.] Here is a line loft after paft ; fo that i: Ihpuid
be diitinguifhed by a break with afterisks. The very words of
the loft line it is impoflible to retrieve ; but the fenfe is obvious
enough. For doing I am pajt ; age has deprived me of much of
my force and vigour, yet I have ftill enough to mew the world I
can do rnyfelf right, as I nvill by thee, in -ivhat motion [or in the
beft manner] age ivill give me leave.
4 Well, thou haft a fonjhall take this dlfgrace off me;] This the
poet makes Parolles fpeak alone; and this is nature. A coward
would try to hide his poltroonry even from himfelf. An ordi-
nary writer would have been glad of fuch an opportunity to bring
him to confeflioa.
R*-
All's 'well) that Ends well. 47
Re-enter Lafeu.
Laf. Sirrah, your Lord and Matter's married, there's
news for you : you have a new miftrefs.
Par. I moft unfeignedly befeech your Lordfhip to
make fome refervation of your wrongs. He, my
good Lord, whom I ferve above, is my mafter.
Laf. Who? God?
Par. Ay, Sir.
Laf. The devil it is, that's thy mafter. Why doft
thou garter up thy arms o' this fafhion ? doft make
hofe of thy fleeves ? do other fervants fo ? thou were
beft fet thy lower part where thy nofe (lands. By
mine honour, if I were but two hours younger, I'd
beat thee : methinks thou art a general offence, and
every man mould beat thee. I think, thou waft created
for men to breathe themfelves upon thee.
Par. This is hard and undeferved meafure, my
Lord.
Laf. Go to, Sir ; you were beaten in Italy for pick-
ing a kernel out of a pomegranate ; you are a vaga-
bond, and no true traveller : you are more fawcy with
lords and honourable perfonages, than the heraldry of
your birth and virtue gives you commifiion. You are not
worth another word, elfe I'd call you knave. I leave
you. [&>.
SCENE VIII.
Enter Bertram.
Par. Good, very good, it is fo then. Good, very
good, let it be conceal'd a while.
Ber. Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever!
Par. What is the matter, fweet heart ?
Ber. Although before the folemn Prieft I'vefworn,
I will not bed her.
Par. What? what, fweet heart?
48 All's 'well, tiat Ends
Ber. O my Parolles, they have married me :
I'll to the I'ufcan wars, and never bed her.
Par. France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits
the tread of a man's foot : to th f wars.
Ber. There's letters from my mother} what the
import is, I know not yet.
Par. Ay, that would be known : to th' wars, my
boy, to th' wars.
He wears his honour in a box, unfeen,
That hugs his kickfy-wickfy here at home ;
Spending his manly marrow in her arms,
Which fhould fuftain the bound and high curvet
Of Mars's fiery fteed : to other regions
France is a ft able, we that dwell in't jades,
Therefore to th' war.
Ber. It mail be fb, I'll fend her to my houfe,
Acquaint my mother with my hate to her,
And wherefore I am fled ; write to the King
That which I durft not fpeak. His prefent gift
Shall furnifh me to thofe Italian fields,
Where noble fellows ftrike. War is no ft rife
To the dark houfe, and the detefted wife.
Par. Will this capricio hold in thee, art fure?
Ber. Go with me to my chamber, and advife me;
I'll fend her ftraight away : to-morrow
I'll to the wars, fhe to her fingle forrow.
Par. Why, thefe balls bound, there's noife in it.
'Tis hard ;
A young man, married, is a man that's marr'd :
Therefore away, and leave her bravely ; go,
The King hath done you wrong : but, hum ! 'tis fo.
[Extant.
SCENE
All's well, that Ends ^ell 49
SCENE IX.
Enter Helena and Clown.
Hel. My mother greets me kindly, is me well?
Clo. She is not well, but yet me has her health 5
(he's very merry, but yet fhe is not well : but, thanks
be given, flic's very well, and wants nothing i'th* world 5
but yet fhe is not well.
Hel. If me be very well, what does me ail, that
fhe's not very well ?
Clo. Truly, (he's very well, indeed, but for two
things.
Hel. What two things ?
Clo. One, that (he's not in heav'n, whither God
lend her quickly ; the other, that Ihe's in earth, from
whence God fend her quickly!
Enter Parolles.
Par. Blefs you, my fortunate lady !
Hel. I hope, Sir, I have your good will to have
mine own good fortune.
Par. You had my prayers to lead them on ; and to
keep them on, have them (till. O, my knave, how
does my old lady ?
Clo. So that you had her wrinkles and I her mony,
I would, (he did, as you fay.
Par. Why, I fay nothing.
Clo. Marry, you are the wifer man j for many a
man's tongue * (peaks out his matter's undoing : to
fay nothing, to do nothing, to know nothing, and to
have nothing, is to be a great part of your title ; which
is within a very little of nothing.
Par. Away, thou'rt a knave.
5 s H A K E s out bis maker's undoing .-] We ftioald read s P fi A K s
out. This is to prepare us for Parolld* dilgrsce.
VOL. III. E Cb.
50 dll's well, that Ends well.
Clo. You fliould have faid, Sir, before a knave,
th'art a knave , that's, before me th'art a knave :
this had been truth, Sir.
Par. Go to, thou art a witty fool, I have found
thee.
Clo. Did you find me in yourfelf, Sir? or were
you taught to find me? the fearch, Sir, was profitable,
and much fool may you find in you, even to the
world's pleafure, and the encreafe of laughter.
Par. A good knave, i* faith, and well fed.
Madam, my Lord will go away to night,
A very ferious bufmefs calls on him.
The great prerogative and rite of love,
Which, as your due, time claims, he does acknowledge ;
But puts it off by a compell'd reftraint :
Whofe want and whofe delay, is ftrew'd with fweets
Which they diftil now in the curbed time,
To make the coming hour o*erflow with joy,
6 And pleafure drown the brim.
Hel. What's his will elfe?
Par. That you will take your inftant leave o'th*
King.
And make this hafte as your own good proceeding ;
Strengthened with what apology, you think,
May make it probable need.
Hel. What more commands he ?
Par. That having this obtain'd, you prefently
Attend his further pleafure.
Hel. In every thing I wait upon his will.
Par. I fhall report it fo. [Exit Parolles.
Hel. I pray you. Come, Sirrah. \jTo Clown.
[Exeunt.
6 And pleafure drown the brim.~\ Metaphor taken from an over-
flowing cup. It is or,e of the boldeft and nobleft expreffions in all
SCENE
All's ivtl/, that Ends ivelL
SCENE X.
Enter Lafeu and Bertram.
Laf. But, I hope, your Lordmip thinks not him
a foldier.
Eer. Yes, my Lord, and of very Valiant approof.
Laf. You have it from his own deliverance.
Eer. And by other warranted teftimony.
Laf. Then my dial goes not true ; I took this lark
for a bunting.
Ber. I do allure you, my Lord, he is very great
in knowledge, and accordingly valiant.
Laf. I have then finned againft his experience, and
tranfgrels'd againft his valour ; and my ftate that way
is dangerous, fmce I cannot yet find in my heart to
repent : here he comes ; I pray you, make us friends,
I will purfue the amity.
. Enter Parolles.
Par. Thefe things (hall be done, Sir.
Laf. I pray you, Sir, who's his taylor ?
Par. Sir?
Laf. O, I know him well j I, Sir, he. Sir's, a
good workman, a very good taylor.
Bar. Is (he gone to the King? [Afide to Parolles.
Par. She is.
Eer. Will (he away tonight?
Par. As you'll have her.
Eer. I have writ my letters, casketed my treafure,
given order for our horfrs; and to night, when I
fhould take pofieflion of the bride . and ere I
do begin
Laf. A good traveller is fomething at the latter end
of a dinner ; but one that lyes three thirds, and ufes
a known truth to pafs a thoufand nothings with, fliould
be once heard, and thrice bearen God lave you,
captain.
E 2 Ber t
5 2 All's well, that Ends <well.
Ber. Is there any unkindnefs between my Lord and
you, Monfieur?
Par. I know not, how I have deferved to run into
my Lord's difpleafure.
Laf. 7 You have made fhift to run into't, boots
and ipurs and all, like him that leapt into the cuftard;
and out of it you'll run again, rather than fuffer
queftion for your refidence.
Ber. It may be, you have miftaken him, my Lord.
Laf. And (hall do fo ever, tho* I took him at's
prayers. Fare you well, my Lord, and believe this
of me, there can be no kernel in this light nut : the
foul of this man is his clothes. Truft him not in
matter of heavy confequence: I have kept of them
tame, and know their natures. Farewel, Monfieur,
I have fpoken better of you, than you have or will
deferve at my hand, but we muft do good againft
evil. [Exit.
Par. An idle lord, I fwear.
Ber. I think fo.
Par. Why, do you not know him?
Ber. Yes, I know him well, and common fpcech
Gives him a worthy pafs. Here comes my clog.
SCENE XL
Enter Helena.
Hel. I have, Sir, as I was commanded from you,
Spoke with the King, and have procur'd his leave
For prefent parting j only, he detires
Some private fpeech with you.
Ber. I mail obey his will.
You muft not marvel, Helen ^ at my courfe,
Which holds not colour with the time ; nor does
1 You have madejhift to run intot, boots and (purs and alL like
him that leapt into the cuftard.] ft was a foolery pra&is'd at city-
entertainments, whilft the Jejter or Zany was in vogue, for him to
j iimp into a large deep cufturd: fet for the pn.rpofe Mr T ! -eof>altt.
The
All's rvell, tlat Ends 'well 53
The miniftration and required office
On my particular. Prepar'd I was not
For fuch a bufinefs ; therefore am I found
So much unfettled : this drives me to intreat you,
That prefently you take your way for home,
And rather mufe, than ask, why 1 intreat you j
For my refpefts are better than they feem,
And my appointments have in them a need
Greater than Ihews itfelf at the firft view,
To you that know them not. This to my mother.
[Giving a letter,
'Twill be two days ere I mall fee you, fo
I leave you to your wifdom.
Hel. Sir, I can nothing fay,
But that I am your moft obedient fervant,
Ber. Come, come, no more of that.
Hel. And ever mall
With true obfervance feek to eke out That,
Wherein tow'rd me my homely flars have fail'd
To equal my great fortune.
Ber. Let That go :
JVly hafte is very great. Farewel; hie home.
Hel. Pray, Sir, your pardon.
Ber. Well, what would you fay ?
Hel. I am not worthy of the wealth I owe ;
Nor dare I fay, 'tis mine, and yet it is ;
But, like a tim'rous thief, moft fain would fteal
What law does vouch mine own.
Ber. What would you have?
Hel. Something, and fcarce fo much' nothing,
indeed [yes ; .
I would not tell you what I would, my Lord 'faith,
Strangers and foes do funder, and not kifs.
Ber. I pray you, (lay not : but in hafte to horfe.
Hel. 1 lhall not break your bidding, good my
Lord. [Exit Helena.
Ber. Where are my other men, Monfieur ?--- -farewel.
3 Go
54 dlYs 'welly that Ends veil.
Go thou towVd home, where I will never come,
Whilft I can fhake my fword, or hear the drum :
Away, and for our flight.
Par. Bravely, Couragio! {Exeunt.
ACT III. SCENE I.
The Duke's Court in FLO RE N c E.
Flouri/h. Enter the Duke of Florence, two French
Lords, with Soldiers.
Du K E.
SO that, from point to point, now have you heard
The fundamental reafons of this war,
Whofe great deofion hath much blood let forth,
And more thirfts after.
1 Lord. Holy feems the quarrel
Upon your Grace's part ; but black and fearful
On the oppcfer.
Duke. Therefore we marvel much, our coufin France
Would, in fo juft a bufmefs, fhut his bofom
Againft our borrowing prayers.
2 Lord. Good my Lord,
The reafons of our (late I cannot yield.
But like a common and * an outward man,
That the great figure of a council frames
* By felf-unable notion ; therefore dare not
Say what I think of it, fmce I have found
Myfelf in my incertain grounds to fail
AS often as I gueft.
Duke, Be it his pleafure.
i an eutivard man,'] i. e. one not in the fecret of affairs.
3 By felf-unable MOTION;] We fhould read NOTION.
2 Lord.
Count
All's well, that Ends 'well. 55
2 Lord. But I am fure, the younger of our nation,
That furfeit on their cafe, will day by day
Come here for phyfick.
Duke. Welcome fhall they be:
And all the honours, that can fly from us,
Shall on them fettle. You know your places well.
When better fall, for your avails they fell ;
To-morrow, to the field. \Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Changes to Roufillon, in France.
Enter Countefs and Clown.
JT hath happened, all as I would have had it ;
fave, that he comes not along with her.
Clo. By my troth, I take my young Lord to be a
very melancholy man.
Count. By what obfervance, I pray you ?
Clo. Why, he will look upon his boot, and fing ;
mend his ruff, and fing; ask queftions, and ling;
pick his teeth, and fing. I knew a man that had this
trick of melancholy, fold a goodly manor for a fong.
Count. Let me fee what he writes, and when he
means to come. [Reads the letter.
Clo. I have no mind to Isbel, fince I was at court.
Our old ling, and our Isbels o'th' country, are nothing
like your old ling, and your Isbels o' th' court : the
brain of my Cupid's knock'd out ; and I begin to
love, as an old man loves mony, with no ftomach.
Count. What have we here ?
Clo. E'en That you have there. [Exit,
Countefs reads a letter.
I have fent you a daughter-in-law: Jhe hath reco-
vered the King^ and undone me. 1 have wedded her,
E 4 *#
4H's well, that Ends
not bedded her-; and facrn to make the not eternal. Ton
Jhall bear, I am run away ; know it, before the report
com \ If there be breadth enough in the world^ I will
bold a long diftance. My duty to you.
Tour unfortunate SOK,
Bertram.
This is not well, rafh and unbridled boy,
To fly the favours of fo good a King,
To pluck his indignation on thy head ;
By the mifprizing of a maid, too virtuous
For the contempt of empire.
Re-enter Clown.
Clo. O Madam, yonder is heavy news within be-
tween two foldiers and my young lady.
Count. What is the matter ?
Go. Nay, there is fome comfort in the news, fome
comfort 5 your Ton will not be kill'd fo foon as I
thought he would.
Count. Why mould he be kill'd?
Clo. So fay I, Madam, if he run away, as I hear
fce does ; the danger is in (landing to't , that's the
Jofs of men, though it be the getting of children.
Here they come, will tell you more. For my part,
I only hear, your fon was run away.
SCENE III.
Enter Helena, and two G&ntkmen.
j (Sent. Save you, good Madam.
Hel. Madam, my Lord is gone, for ever gone. -
2 Gent. Do not fay fo.
Count. Think upon patience : 'pray you, gentlemen,
I've felt fo many quirks of joy and grief,
That the firft face of neither, on the flarr,
Can woman me unto'L Where is my fon ?
2 Gent.
All's wll) that Ends well. 57
2 Gent. Madam, he's gone to ferve the Duke of
Florence.
We met him thitherward, for thence we came ;
And, after fome difpacch in hand at court,
Thither we bend again.
Hel. Look on this letter, Madam ; here's my pafs-
port.
3 When thou can ft get the ring, ti-pon my -finger, which
never JJjall come off; and flew me a child begotten
of thy body that I am father to, then call me buf-
band : but in fuch a Then I write a Never.
This is a dreadful fentence.
Count. Brought you this letter, gentlemen ?
1 Gent. Ay, Madam, and, for the contents' fake,
are forry for our pains.
Count. I pr'ychee, lady, have a better cheer.
If thou engroffeft all the griefs as thine,
Thou robb'ft me of a moiety: he was my fon,
But I do wafh his name out of my blood,
And thou art all my child. Towards Florence is he ?
2 Gent. Ay, Madam.
Count. And to be a foldier ?
2 Gent. Such is his noble purpofe ; and, believe*t,
The Duke will lay upon him all the honour
That good convenience claims.
Count. Return you thither ?
i Gent. Ay, Madam, with the fwifteft wing of fpeed.
Hel. * Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.
'Tis bitter. [Reading.
Count. Find you that there ?
Hel. Yes, Madam.
3 When thou can Jl get the ring, upon my finger,] i. e. When thou
canit get the ring, which is on my finger, into thy pofieffion. The
Oxford Editor, who took it the other way, to fignify, when thou
canil get ic on upon ray finger, very fagaciou fly alters it to, When
thou canjl get the ring from my fagtr,
I Gent.
58 All's 'welly float Ends 'well.
I Gent. 'Tis but the boldnefs of his hand, happ'ly,
which his heart was not confenting to.
Count. Nothing in France, until he have no wife ?
There's nothing here, that is too good for him,
But only fhe ; and fhe deferves a lord,
That twenty fuch rude boys might tend upon,
And call her hourly miftrefs. Who was with him ?
i Gent. A fervant only, and a gentleman
Which I have fome time known.
Count. Parottesy was't not ?
i Gent. Ay, my good lady, he.
Count, A very tainted fellow, and full of wickednefs :
My fon corrupts a well-derived nature
With his inducement.
i Gent. Indeed, good lady, the fellow has 4 a deal
of that too much, which holds him much to have.
Count. Y'are welcome, gentlemen ; I will intreat
you, when you fee my fon, to tell him, that his fword
can never win the honour that he lofes : more I'll in-
treat you written to bear along.
i Gent. We ferve you, Madam, in that and all
your worth ieft affairs.
Count. Not fo, but as we change our courtefies.
Will you draw near? [Exeunt Countefs and Gent.
SCENE IV.
Hel. 'fill I have no wife, 1 have nothing in France.
Nothing in France , until he has no wife !
4 a deal of that too much, <vchich holds him much to have.] That
is, his vices Hand him in ftead. Helen had before delivered this
thought in all the beauty of expreflion.
/ kno~jc him a nefarious lyar j
Think him a great way fool, folely a CGiuard*
Tet theft fixt e<vils Jit fo fit in htm,
That th?y take place, Awhile <virtui s fieely band
Liok hlfak in the cold 'wind
3u*. the Qxfit-d Editor reads, Which *hs'jes him not muth tohavt.
Thou
All's well, that Ends well. 59
Thou fhalt have none, Rmifillon^ none in France ;
Then haft thou all again. Poor lord ! is't I
That chafe thee from thy country, and expofe
Thofe tender limbs of thine to the event
Of the none-fparing war? and is it I
That drive thee from the fportive court, where thou
Waft fhot at with fair eyes, to be the mark
Of fmoaky muskets ? O you leaden meflengers,
That ride upon the violent fpeed of fire,
Fly with falfe aim -, $ pierce the ftill-moving air,
That fings with piercing, do not touch my lord :
Whoever flioots at him, I fet him there.
Whoever charges on his forward breaft,
I am the caitiff, that do hold him to it ;
And tho* I kill him not, I am the caufe
His death was fo effected. Better 'twere,
I met the rav'ning lion when he roar'd
With fharp conftraint of hunger: better 'twere,
That all the miferies, which nature owes,
Were mine at once. No, come thou home, Roufillon ;
Whence honour but of danger wins a fear ;
As oft it lofes all. I will be gone :
My being here it is, that holds thee hence.
Shall I ftay here to do't? no, no, although
The air of paradife did fan the houfe,
And angels offic'd all; I will be gone;
That pitiful rumour may report my flight,
To conlblate thine ear. Come, night ; end, day !
For with the dark, poor thief, I'll fteal away. [Exit.
5 move the ftill-piercing air,
Tbatjtngs 'with piercing ] The words are here odly (huffled
into nonfenfe. We Ihould read,
pierce the Hill moving air,
*ThatJing$ with piercing,
i. e. pierce the air, which is in perpeiual motion, and fuffers no
injury by piercing.
SCENE
60 All's wll, that Ends well.
SCENE V.
Changes to the Duke's Court in Florence.
Plourijh. Enter the Duke of Florence, Bertram, Drum
and Trumpets, Soldiers^ Parolles.
H E General of our Horfe thou art, and we,
Great in our hope, lay our beft love and
credence
Upon thy promifing fortune.
Ber. Sir, it is
A charge too heavy for my ftrength ; but yet
We'll ftrive to bear it for your worthy fake,
To th* extream edge of hazard.
Duke. Then go forth,
And fortune play upon thy profp'rous helm,
As thy aufpicious miftrefs!
Ber. This very day,
Great Mars, I put myfelf into thy file ;
Make me but like my thoughts, and I fhall prove
A lover of thy drum ; hater of love. [Exeunt,
SCENE VI
Changes to Roufillon in France.
Enter Countefs and Steward.
Count. \ Las ! and would you take the letter of her ?
JL\ Might you not know, me would do, as me
has done,
By fending me a letter ? Read it again.
LETTER.
All's well, that Ends well. 61
LETTER.
/ am St. Jaques' pilgrim^ tbitber gone ;
Ambitious love hath Jo in me offended,
That bare-foot plod I the cold ground upon.
With fainted vow my faults to have amended.
Write* write, that from the bloody courfe of war
My dear eft majier, your dear fon, may hie ;
Blefs him at home in peace, whilft I from far
His name with zealous fervour fanflifie.
His taken labours bid him me forgive ;
/, his defpiteful Juno, fent him forth
From courtly friends, 'with camping foes to live ;
Where death and danger dog the heels of worth.
He is too good and fair for death and me,
Whom I myfelf embrace, to fet him free.
Ah, what fliarp flings are in her mildeft words?
Rynaldo, you did never lack advice fo much,
As letting her pafs fo ; had I fpoke with her,
I could have well diverted her intents,
Which thus me hath prevented.
Stew. Pardon, Madam,
If I had given you this at over-night
She might have been o'er-ta'en j and yet flie writes,
Purfuit would be but vain.
Count. What angel lhall
Blefs this unworthy husband ? he cannot thrive,
Unlefs her prayers, whom heaven delights to hear,
And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath
Of greateft juftice. Write, write, Rynaldo,
To this unworthy husband of his wife ;
Let every word weigh heavy of her worth,
That he does weigh too light : my greateft grief,
Tho* little he do feel it, fet down lharply.
Difpatch the moft convenient meflenger ;
When
62 All's we//, that Ends
When, haply, he fhall hear that fhe is gone,
He will return, and hope I may, that (he,
Hearing To much, will fpeed her foot again,
Led hither by pure love. Which of them both
Is deareft to me, I've no skill in fenfe
To make diftinction ; provide this meflenger ;
My heart is heavy, and mine age is weak ;
Grief would have tears, and forrow bids me fpeak.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VII.
Changes to a publick Place in Florence.
A Tucket afar off.
Enter an old Widow of Florence, Diana, Violenta,
and Mariana, with other Citizens.
Wid. "\^ AY, come. For if they do approach the
Jl\ city, we mall lofe all the fight.
Dia. They fay, the French Count has done mod
honourable fervice.
Wid. It is reported, that he has ta'en their greateft
commander ; and that with his own hand he flew the
Duke's brother. We have loft our labour, they are
gone a contrary way: hark, you may know by their
trumpets.
Afar. Come, let*s return again, and fuffice ourfelves
with the report of it. Well, Diana, take heed of
this French Earl ; the honour of a maid is her name,
and no legacy is fo rich as honcfty.
Wid. I have told my neighbour, how you have been
follicited by a gentleman his companion.
Mar. \ know that knave, (hang him !) one Parol-
les -, a filthy officer he is in thofe fuggeftions for the
young Earl ; beware of them, Diana ; their promifes,
enticements, oaths, tokens, and all thefe engines of
luft,
All's well, that Ends 'well. 63
luft, * are the things they go under j many a maid
hath been feduced by them j and the mifery is, ex-
ample, that fo terrible fhews in the wreck of maiden-
hood, cannot for all that diffuade fuccefilon, but that
they are limed with the twigs that threaten them. I
hope, I need not to advife you further , but, I hope,
your own grace will keep you where you are, tho'
there were 7 no further danger found, but the modefty
which is fo loft.
Dia. You fhall not need to fear me.
Enter Helena, dlfgulSd like a Pilgrim.
WiA. I hope fo Look, here comes a pilgrim ;
I know, me will lye at my houfe; thither they fend
one another; I'll queftion her: God fave you, pil-
grim ! whither are you bound ?
6 are not the things they go under;} Mr.Theola Id explains thefe words
by, They are not really fo true and fence reat in appearance they feem
to be. He found fomething like this fenfe would fit the paflage, but
whether the words would fit the fenfe he feems not to have confi-
dered. The truth is, the negative particle fhould be (truck out,
and the words read thus, are the things they go under; i. e. they
make ufe of oath?, promifes, &c. to facilitate their defign upon
us. The allufion is to the military ufe of cover'd-ways, to facili-
tate an approach or attack ; and the Scene, which is a befieged
city, and the perfons fpoken of who are foldicrs, make the phrafe
very proper and natuial. The Oxford Editor has adopted this
correction, tho' in his uiual way, with a but; and reads, art but
the things they go under.
7 no further KNOWN, but the modejly which is fo loft.] Mariana
advifes Diana not to believe young (oldiers' oaths and promifes ;
fhews her the mifchiefs attendant on the lols of honour; and con-
cludes, that (he ought to be careful to preferve that, tho' (he were
lure (lie mould feel no other ill confluence than only the lofs of
her modefty. From hence it appears we (hould read, no further
danger FOUND, but the modefly <u<hifh it fo loft. Not only on ac-
count of the antithefis reftored by the word faun d, which refers to
loft, a thing which ia Shaktfpsar's writing is not to be overlooked,
but principally bccaufe the queftion here is not concerning the bare
knowledge of the confequences of a woman's lofing her honour,
but concerning Diana's experience of this matter in her own cafe ;
with which the reading here propofed can only agree,
Hsl.
64 All's well, that Ends *uxlL
Hel. To St. Jaques le Grand. Where do the pal-
mers lodge, I do befeech you ?
Wid. At the Sc. Francis, befide the port.
Hel. Is this the way ? [A march afar off.
Wid. Ay, marry, is't. Hark you, they come this
way.
If you will tarry, holy pilgrim, but 'till the troops
come by,
I will conduct you where you mail be lodg'd ;
The rather, for, I think, I know your hoftefs
As ample as myfelf.
Hel. Is it yourfelf ?
Wid. If you mall pleafe fo, pilgrim.
Hel. I thank you, and will flay upon your leifure.
Wid. You came, I think, from France.
Hel. I did fo.
Wid. Here you mall fee a countryman of yours,
That has done worthy fervice.
Hel. His name, I pray you?
Dia. The Count Roujillon: know you fuch a one ?
Hel. But by the ear, that hears moft nobly of him \
His face I know not.
Dia. Whatfoe'er he is,
He's bravely taken here. He ftole from France,
As 'tis reported ; for the King had married him
Againft his liking. Think you, it is fo ?
Hel. Ay, furely, 8 meerlye truth ; I know his lady;
Dia. There is a gentleman that ferves the Count, .
Reports but courfely of her.
Hel. What's his name ?
Dia. Monfieur Parolles.
Hel. Oh, I believe with him,
In argument of praife, or to the worth
Of the great Count himfelf, me is too mean
8 MEER THE truth ] We Ihould read, MEERLYB truth,
i. e. certainly. So Sir Thomas Moore,
i i i that we may merelye mett in biai'tri.
To
Alts well, that Ends <we!l. 67
To have her name repeated ; all her defcrving
Is a referved honefty, and That
I have not heard examin'd.
Dia. Alas, .poor lady !
'Tis a hard bondage, to become the wife
Of a detecting lord.
Wid. Ah! right; good creature! wherefoe'er {he is
Her heart weighs fadly 5 this young maid might do her
A fhrewd turn, if (he pleas'd.
Hel. How do you mean ?
May be, the am'rous Count follicits her
In the unlawful purpofe.
IVid. He does, indeed ;
And brokes with all, that can in fuch a fuit
Corrupt the tender honour of a maid :
But fhe is arm'd for him, and keeps her guard
In honefteft defence.
SCENE VIII.
Drum and Colours. Enter Bertram, Parolles, Officer*
and Soldiers attending.
Mar. The Gods forbid elfe!
Wid. So now they come :
That is Antonio, the Duke's eldeft fon ;
That, Efcalus.
Hel. Which is the Frenchman?
Dia. He }
That with the plume ; 'tis a mod gallant fellow ;
I would, he lov'd his wife! if he were honefter,
He were much goodlier. Is't not a handfome gentleman i
Hel. I like him well.
Dia. 'Tis pity, he is not honeft j yond*s that fame
knave,
That leads him to thefe places ; were I his lady,
I'd poifon that vile rafcal.
VOL. III. F :
<$8 'All's TO//, that Ends 'well
Hel. -Which is he ?
Dia. That jack-an-apes with fcarfs. Why is he
melancholy ?
Hel. Perchance, he's hurt i'th' battel.
Par. Lofe our drum ! well.'
Mar. He*s ihrewdly vex'd at fbmething. Look,
he has fpied us.
Wid t Marry, hang you !
[Exeunt Bertram, Parolles, fcfc
Mar. And your courtefie, for a ring-carrier !
Wid. The troop is paft : come, pilgrim, I will
bring you,
Where you mail hoft : Of injoyn'd penitents
There's four or five, to great St. Jaques bound,
Already at my houfe.
Hel. I humbly thank you:
Pleafe it this matron, and this gentle maid
To eat with us to night, the charge and thanking
Shall be for me : and to requite you further,
I will beftow fome precepts on this virgin
Worthy the note.
Both. We'll take your offer kindly. [Exeunt.
SCENE IX.
Enter Bertram, and the two French Lords.
1 Lord. Nay, good my lord, put him to't : let
him have his way.
2 Lord. If your lordmip find him not a hilding,
hold me no more in your refpect.
I Lord. On my life, my lord, a bubble.
Eer. Do you think, I am fo fardeceiv'd in him?
i Lord. Believe it, my lord, in mine own direft
knowledge, without any malice, but to fpeak of him
as my kinfman , he's a mod notable coward, an in*
finite and endlefs liar, an hourly promife- breaker, the
owner
Alt's <welI 3 that Ends welL 69
bwner of no one good quality worthy your lordftiip*s
entertainment.
2 Lord. It were fit you knew him, left s repofing
too far in his virtue, which he hath not, he might
at fome great and trufty bufmefs in a main danger fail
you.
Ber. I would, I knew in what particular aftion to
try him.
2 Lord, None better than to let him fetch off his
drum i which you hear him fo confidently undertake
to do,
1 Lord. I, with a troop of Florentines , will fud-
denly furprize him ; fuch I will have, whom, I am
fure, he knows not from the enemy : we will bind
and hood- wink him fo, that he fhall fuppofe no other
but that he is carried into the leaguer of the adver-
faries, when we bring him to our own tents ; be but
your lordfliip prefent at his examination, if he do not
for the promife of his life, and in the higheft com-
pulfion of bafe fear, offer to betray you, and deliver
all the intelligence in his power againft you, and that
with the divine forfeit of his foul upon oath, never
truft my judgment in any thing.
2 Lord. O, for the love of laughter, let him fetch
his drum ; he fays, he has a ftratagem for't ; when
your lordfhip fees the bottom of his fuccefs in't, and
to what metal this counterfeit Jump of 9 Oar will be
melted, if you give him not ' John Drum's entertain*
9 Oar fpelt right by Mr. Theobald.
i John Drum'j entertainment, , j Ho!ivp/bed> in his defcription of
Ireland, fpeaking of Patrick Scarfefield, (mayor of Dublin in the
year 1551,) and of his extravagant hofpitalky, fubjoins, that no
gueft had ever a cold or forbidding look from any part of his fa-
mily : fo tnac bis porter, or any other Officer, durft not, for both hit
ears, give the fetnplejl man, that re for ted to his houfe, Tom Drum'/
entertainment, which is, to hale a man in by the head, and thruft
him out by both the ftioulders. Mr. Theobald.
F 2 ment,
Ms well, that Ends 'well
ment, your inclining cannot be removed. Here he
comes.
SCENE X.
Enter Parolles.
. i Lord. O, for the love of laughter, hinder not
the humour of his defign, let him fetch off his drum
in any hand.
Ber. How now, Monfieur? this drum flicks forely
in your difpofition.
2 Lord. A pox't on't, let it go, 'tis but a drum.
Par. But a drum ! is't but a drum ? a drum fo loft !
there was an excellent command ! to charge in with
our horfe upon our own wings, and to rend our own
foldiers.
2 Lord. That was not to be blamed in the command
of the fervice i it was a difafter of war that Cafar
himfelf could not have prevented, if he had been there
to command.
Ber. Well, we cannot greatly condemn our fuccefs:
fome difhonour we had in the lofs of that drum, but
it is not to be recover'd.
Par. It might have been recover'd.
Ber. It might, but it is not now.
Par. It is to be recover'd ; but that the merit of
fervice is feldom attributed to the true and exact per-
Jormcr, I would have that drum or another, or bic
jacet
Ber. Why, if you have a ftomach to'r, Monfieur ;
if you think your my fiery in flratagem, can bring
this inftrumentof honour again into his native quarter,
be magnanimous in the enterprize and go on j I will
grace the attempt for a worthy exploit: if you fpeed
well in it, the Duke mall both fpeak of it, and extend
to you what further becomes his greatnefs, even to the
istmofl fyllable of your worthinefs.
Par.
Alts well, that Ends well. 7 1
Pur. By the hand of a foldier, I will undertake it.
Ber. But you muft not now (lumber in it.
Par. I'll about it this evening j and * I will pn-
fently pen down my dilemmas, encourage myfeli in
my certainty, put myfelf into my mortal preparation j
and, by midnight, look to hear further from me.
Ber. May I be bold to acquaint his Grace, you are
gone about it ?
Par. I know not what the fuccefs will be, my Lord j
but the attempt I vow.
Ber. I know, th'art valiant; and to the 3 poffibility
of foldierfhip, will fubfcribe for thee; fareweJ.
Par. I love not many words. [Exit.
SCENE XI.
1 Lord. No more than a Mm loves water.- Is not
this a ftrange fellow, my Lord, that fo confidently
feems to undertake this bufmefs, which he knows is not
to be done ; damns himfelf to do it, and dares better
be damn'd than to do't ?
2 Lord. You do not know him, my Lord, as we do -,
certain it is, that he will (leal himfelf into a man's fa-
vour, and for a week efcape a great deal of difcoveries ;
but when you find him out, you have him ever after.
Ber. Why, do you think, he will make no deed at
all of this, that fo ferioufly he does addrefs himfelf
unto ?
2 Lord. None in the world, but return with an in-
vention, and clap upon you two or three probable lies ;
but we have almoft imbofs'd him, you mall fee his fall
to night , for, indeed, he is not for your lordfhip's
refped.
2 / will prefently pen down my Dilemmas,] By this word, Pa-
rolles is made to infinuate that he had feveral ways, all equally
certain, of recovering this Drum. For a Dilemma is an argument
that concludes both ways.
3 fojfibility of thy folditr/kip,] dele tJy ; the fenfe requires it.
t 3 1
7 2 Alt s 'well, ilat Ends 'well
1 Lord. \Ve*ll make you fome fport with the fox,
ere we cafe him. He was firft fmoak'd by the old
lordLafeu ; when his difguife and he is parted, tell me
what a fprat you fhall find him ; which you mall fee,
this very night.
2 Lord. I mud go and look my twigs ; he (hall be
Caught.
Ber. Your brother, he mall go along with me.
2 Lord. As't pleafe your lordfhip. I'll leave you.
\_Exit.
Ser. Now will I lead you to the houfe, and mew you
The Jafs I fpoke of.
i Lord. But you fay, lhe*s honeft.
Ber. That's all the fault : 1 fpoke with her but once,
And found her wondrous cold ; but 1 fent to her,
By this fame coxcomb that we have i'th* wind,
Tokens and letters, which me did re-fend ;
And this is all I've done : me's a fair creature,
Will you go fee her ?
I Lord. With all my heart, my lord. -[Extunti
SCENE XII.
Changes to the Widow's Houfe*
Enter Helena, and Widow.
Het. T F you mifdoubt me that I am not /he,
Jl I know nor, how I mail affure you further ;
"* But I mail lofe the grounds I work upon.
Wid. Tho 3 my eftate be fallen, I was well born,
Nothing acquainted with thefe bufinefles 5
And would not put my reputation now
In any ftaining a<5l.
4 B& jfvall J a ft tie ground: I -v:srk upon ] *. e. By difcovpring
herfelf to the eount,
Alts well, that Ends well. 7 3
Hel. Nor would I wifh you.
Firft, give me truft, the Count he is my husband j
And what to your fworn counfel I have fpoken,
Is fo, from word to word ; and then you cannot,
By the good aid that I of you mall borrow,
Err in beftowing it.
Wid. I mould believe you,
For you have fhew'd me that, which well approves
Y'are great in fortune.
Hel. Take this purfe of gold,
And let me buy your friendly help thus far,
Which I will over-pay, and pay again
When I have found it. The Count wooes your
daughter,
Lays down his wanton fiege before her beauty,
Refolves to carry her ; let her confent,
As we'll direcl: her how, 'tis beft to bear it.
Now his important blood will nought deny,
That (he'll demand: a ring the Count does wear,
That downward hath fucceeded in his houfe
From fon to fon, fome four or five defcents,
Since the firft father wore it. This ring he holds
In moft rich choice ; yet in his idle fire 9
To buy his will, it would not feem too dear,
Howe'er repented after.
Wid. Now I fee the bottom of your purpofe,
Hel. You fee it lawful then. It is no more,
But that your daughter, ere me feems as won,
Defires this ring ; appoints him an encounter ;
In fine, delivers me to fill the time,
Herfelf moft chaftly abfent : after this,
To marry her, I'll add three thoufand crowns
To what is paft already.
Wid. I have yielded :
Inftruct my daughter how me mall perfevere,
That time and place, with this deceit fo lawful,
May prove coherent. Every night he comes
F 4 With
74 dlts well, that Ends 'well.
With mu-fick of all forts, and fongs compos'd
To her unworthinefs : it nothing fteads us
To chide him from our eaves, for he perfifts,
As if his life lay on't.
Hel. Why then, to night
Let us affay our plot ; which if it fpeed, ,
* Is wicked meaning in a lawful deed ;
And lawful meaning in a wicked act ;
Where both not fin, and yet a fmful fad.
But let's about it [Exeunt.
ACT IV. SCENE I.
Part of the French Camp in Florence.
Enter one of tie French Lords, with five or fix Soldier*
in ambujh.
LORD.
HE can come no other way but by this hedge*
corner , when you fally upon him, fpeak what
terrible language you will ; though you underftand it
not yourfelv-es, no matter; for we muft not feem to
5 // wicked meaning in a lawful deed ;
dnd lawful meaning in a, i A w F u L aci ; ] To make this ging
ling riddle complete in all its parts, we fhould read the iccond line
thus,
And lawful meaning in a WICKED ali ;
The fenfe of the two Jines is this, It is a wicked meaning becaufe
the woman's intent is to deceive; bat a laivful deed, becaufe the
man enjoys his own wife. Again, it is a lawful meaning becaufe
done by her to gain her husband's eftranged affection, but it is a
nicked aSi becaufe he goes intentionally to commit adultery. The
riddle concludes thus, Whert Ittv net Jin and yet a jir.ful fafi '. i. e.
Where neither of them lin, and yet it is a fmful fad on both fides j
which conciufion, we fe? s requires the emendation here .made.
under*
AW* well, that Ends
tmderftand him, unlefs fome one amongft us, whom
we mult produce for an interpreter.
Sol. Good captain, let me be th' interpreter.
Lord. Art not acquainted with him ? knows he not
thy voice?
Sol. No, Sir, I warrant you.
Lord. But what linfie-wooJfie haft thou to fpeak to
us again?
Sol. Ev'n fuch as you fpeak to me.
Lord. He muft think us fome band of ftrangers
i'th' adverfaries' entertainment. Now he hath a fmack
of all neighbouring languages, therefore we muft every
one be a man of his own fancy ; not to know what
we fpeak one to another, fo we feem to know, is to
know ftraight our purpofe : chough's language, gabble
enough, and good enough. As for you, interpreter,
you muft feem very politick. But couch, hoa! here
he comes, to beguile two hours in a deep, and then
to return and fwear the lies he forges.
Enter Parolles.
Par. Ten o* clock ; within thefe three hours 'twill
be time enough to go home. What mall I fay, I
have done ? it muft be a very plaufive invention that
carries it. They begin to fmoak me, and difgraces
have of late knock'd too often at my door ; 1 find,
my tongue is too fool-hardy , but my heart hath the
fear of Mars before it and of his creatures, not daring
the reports of my tongue.
Lord. This is the firft truth that e'er thine own
tongue was guilty of. [Afide.
Par. What the devil mould move me to under-
take the recovery of this drum, being not ignorant of
the impofilbility, and knowing I had no fuch pur*
pofe ? I muft give myfelf fome hurts, and fay, I got
them in exploit; yet flight ones will not carry it.
They will fay, came you off with fo little ? and great
ones
76 dtts <well y that Ends well.
ones I dare not give ; wherefore what's the inftance ?
Tongue, I muft put you into a butter-woman's mouth,
1 and buy my felf another of Bajazet's mute, if you
prattle me into thefe perils.
Lord. Is it poffible, he fhould know what he is,
and be that he is? [Afide.
Par. I would the cutting of my garments would
ferve the turn, or the breaking of my Spanijh fword.
Lord. We cannot afford you fo. [Afide.
Par. Or the baring of my beard, and to fay, it
was in ftratagem.
Lord. 'Twould not do. [Afide.
Par. Or to drown my cloaths, and fay, I was ftript.
Lord. Hardly ferve. [Afide.
Par. Though I fwore, I leap'd from the window
of the citadel
Lord. How deep ? [Afidc.
Par. Thirty fathom.
Lord. Three great oaths would fcarce make that
be believed. \_Afide.
Par. I would, I had any drum of the Enemies ; I
would fwear, I recover'd it.
Lord. You mall hear one anon. \_Afide.
Par. A drum now of the enemies!
[Alarum within.
Lord. Tbroco mwoufus, cargo, cargo, cargo.
All. Cargo, cargo, villiando par corbo^ cargo.
Par. Oh ! ranfom, ranfom : do not hide mine eyeSo
[Theyfeize him and blindfold him.
Inter. Boskos thromuldo boskos.
Par. I know, you are the Muskos regiment,
And I fhali lofe my life for want of language.
I and buy toy felf another of Eajazet'j MULE,] We fhould read,
M u T E , i.e. z Turkijb mute. So in Henry V.
Either our bijiorj Jhall with full mouth
Spfak_/r*Wj> of our afts ; or elfe our grave,
Like turkifh mute, Jhall have a tonguelefs mouth.
Alts well, tlat Ends well. 77
If there be here German, or Dane, low Dutch,
Italian, or French^ let him fpeak to me,
I'll difcover That which fhall undo the Florentine.
Inter. Boskos vauvado ; I underftand thee, and can
fpeak thy tongue ; Kerelybonto, Sir, betake thee to
thy faith, for feventeen poniards are at thy bofom.
Par. Oh!
Int. Oh, pray, pray, pray.
Mancha ravancha dulche.
Lord. Ofceoribi dulchos volivcrco.
Int. The general is content to fpare thee yet,
And, hood-winkt as thou art, will lead thee on
To gather from thee. Haply thou may'ft inform
Something to fave thy life.
Par. Oh let me live,
And all the fecrets of our Camp I fhew ;
Their force, their purpofes : nay, I'll fpeak That
Which you will wonder at.
Int. But wilt thou faithfully ?
Par. If I do not, damn me.
Int. Acordo lint a.
Come on, thou art granted fpace. [Exit,
[Ajhort alarum 'within.
Lord. Go, tell the Count Roufillon and my brother,
We've caught the woodcock, and will keep him
muffled
'Till we do hear from them,
Sol. Captain, I will.
Lord. He will betray us all unto ourfelves.
Inform 5 em That.
Sol. So I will, Sir.
Lord. 'Till then J'll keep him dark and fafely
lockt.
[Exeunt*
SCENE
's well, that Evcls
SCENE II.
Changes to the Widow's Houfe.
Enter Bertram, and Diana.
THEY told me, that your name was Fontibell.
Dia. No, my good lord, Dlana^
Ber. Titled Goddefs,
And worth it with addition! bur, fair foul,
In your fine frame hath love no quality ?
If the quick fire of youth light not your mind,
You are no Maiden, but a Monument :
When you are dead, you fhould be fuch a one
As you are now, for you are cold and ftern j
And now you mould be as your Mother was,
When your fweet felf was got.
Dia. She then was honeft.
Ber. So mould you be.
Dia. No.
My Mother did but duty ; fuch, my Lord,
As you owe to your Wife.
Ber. No more o* that !
I pr'ythee do not ftrive againft my vows :
I was compell'd to her, but I love thee
By love's own fweet conftraint, and will for ever
Do thee all rights of fervice.
Dia. Ay, fo you fervc us,
'Till we ferve you: but when you have our rofes.
You barely leave our thorns to prick ourfelves,
And mock us wirh our barenefs.
Ber. Hew have I fworn!
Dia. f Tis not the many oaths, that make the truth ;
But the plain fingie vow, that is vow'd true ;
** What is not holy, that we fwear, not 'bides,
But
2 What is not holy, that we five ar not BY,] Yes, nothing i. more
than fuch kind of oath-. But Duma is not here accufmg
Bertram
Alts well, that Ends well. 79
But take the High'ft to witnefs: then, pray tell me,
If I Ihould fwear by Jove's great Attributes
I lov'd you dearly, would you believe my oaths,
When I did love you ill ? this has no holding,
To fwear by him whom I proteft to love,
That J will work againft him. Therefore your
oaths
Are words, and poor conditions but unfeal'd ;
At lead, in my opinion.
Ber. Change it, change it :
Be not fo holy-cruel. Love is holy,
And my integrity ne'er knew the crafts,
That you do charge men with : ftand no more off,
But give thyfelf unto my fick defires,
Which then recover. Say, thou art mine; and ever
My love, as it begins, mail fo perfever.
Dia. I fee, that men make hopes in fuch affairs
That we'll forfake ourfelves. Give me that ring.
Ber. I'll lend it thee, my Dear, but have no power
To give it from me.
Bertram for fwearing by a Being not holy, but for fwearing to an
unholy purpofe; as is evident from the preceeding lines,
'TJj not the many oaths, that make the Truth;
But the plain Jimp le <vo<w, that is wow d true.
The line in queftion, therefore, is evidently corrupt, and fhould be
read thus
What is not holy, that ive fwear, not ' B I D E s ,
/'. e. If we fwear to an unholy purpofe the oath abides not, but is
diflolved in the making. This is an anfwer to the purpofe. She
fubjoins the reafon two or three lines after,
this has no holding,
To fivear by him, whom I proteji to loiie %
That I will work againjl him.
i. e. That oath can never hold, whofe fubjec~l is to offend and dif-
pleafe that Being, whom, I profefs, in the aft of fwearing by him,
to love and reverence. What may have mifled the editors into the
common reading was, perhaps, miftaking Bertram's words above,
By love's own/wee* conjlraint, to be an oath} whereas it
only fignifies, being conjlrained by love.
Dia.
So Alh 'well, that Ends
Dia. Will you not, my Lord ?
Ber. It is an Honour 'longing to our Houfe,
Bequeathed down from many Anceftors ;
Which were the greateft obloquy i*th f world
In me to lofe.
Dia. Mine Honour's fuch a ring ;
My chaftity's the jewel of our Houfe,
Bequeathe4 down from many Anceftors ;
Which were the greateft obloquy i'th* world
In me to lofe. Thus your own proper wifdom
Brings in the champion Honour on my part,
Againft your vain aflault.
Ber. Here, take my ring.
My Houfe, my Honour, yea, my life be thine,
And I'll be bid by thee.
Dia. When midnight comes knock at my chamber
window ;
I'll order take, my Mother fhall not hear.
Now will I charge you in the band of truth,
When you have conquer'd my yet maiden-bed,
Remain there but an hour, nor fpeak to me :
My reafons are moft ftrong, and you fhall know them,
When back again this ring fhall be deliver'd ;
And on your finger, in the night, I'll put
Another ring, that, what in time proceeds,
May token to the future our paft deeds.
Adieu, 'till then ; then, fail not : you have won
A wife of me, tho* there my hope be done.
Ber. A heav'n on earth I've won by wooing thee.
[Exit.
Dia. For which live long to thank both heav'n
and me.
You may fo in the end. -
My Mother told me juft how he would woo,
As if me fat in's heart ; me fays, all men
Have the like oaths: he had fworn to marry me,
When his Wife's dead : therefore I'll lye with him,
When
Alts well, flat Ends <w//. 81
When I am buried. 3 Since Frenchmen are fo braid,
Marry 'em that will, I'd live and die a maid 5
Only, in this difguife, I think't no fin
To cozen him, that would unjuftly win. [Exit,
SCENE III.
Changes to the French Camp in Florence.
Enter the two French Lords y and two or three Soldiers*
t Lord. \7 O U have not given him his Mother's
I letter?
2 Lord. I have deliver'd it an hour fmce ; there is
fomething in't, that ft ings his nature ; for, on the
reading it, he chang'd almoft into another man.
1 Lord. He has much worthy blame laid upon him
for making off fo good a wife, and fo fweet a lady.
2 Lord. Efpecially, he hath incurred the everlaft-
ing difpleafure of the King, who had even tun'd his
bounty to fmg happinefs to him. I will tell you a thing,
but you mall let it dwell darkly with you.
1 Lord. When you have fpoken it, 'tis dead, and
I am the grave of it.
2 Lord. He hath perverted a young Gentlewoman
here in Florence, of a moft chafte renown ; and this
night he flelhes his will in the fpoilof her honour ; he
I " Since Frenchmen are fo braid,
Marry that will, Til live and die a Maidi\
What ! becaufe Frenchmen were falfe, flic, that was an Italian*
would marry nobody. The text is corrupted ; and we Qiouldread,
Since Frenchmen are fo braid,
Marry 'em that 'will, /*// live and die a maid.
i. e. fince Frfnchmen prove fo crooked and perverfe in their man-
ners, let who will marry them, I had rather live and die a maid,
than venture upon them. This me fays with a view to Hekn, who
appeared fo fond of her husband, and went thro' fo many difficul-
ties to obtain him.
hath
*. 2 Alts 'welly that Ends well.
hath given her his monumental ring, and thinks hirr-
felf made in the unchafte compofition.
2 Lord. Now God delay our rebellion j as we arc
our felves, what things are we!
2 Lord. Meerly our own traitors ; and, as in the
common courfe of all treafons, we ftill fee them reveal
themfelves, 'till they attain to their abhorr'd ends ; fo
he, that in this action contrives againft his own Nobi-
lity, in his proper dream o'erflows himfelf.
1 Lord. Is it not meant damnable in us to be the
trumpeters of our unlawful intents ? we (hall not then
have his company to night ?
2 Lord. Not till after midnight ; for he is dieted
to his hour.
1 Lord. That approaches apace : I would gladly
have him fee his company anatomiz'd, that he might
take a meafure of his own Judgment, wherein fo cu-
rioufly he had fet this counterfeit.
2 Lord. We will not meddle with him 'till he come ;
for his prefence muft be the whip of the other.
1 Lord. In the mean time, what hear you of thefe
wars ?
2 Lord. I hear, there is an overture of Peace.
1 Lord. Nay, I afiiire you, a Peace concluded.
2 Lord. What will Count RoufiUon do then ? will
he travel higher, or return again into France ?
1 Lord. I perceive by this demand, you are not
altogether of his Council.
2 Lord. Let it be forbid, Sir ! fo mould I be a great
deal of his aft.
i Lord. Sir, his Wife fome two months fince fled
from his Houfe, her pretence is a Pilgrimage to St.
Jaques le Grand ; which holy Undertaking, with moft
auftere fanflimony, (he accomplifh'd j and there refid-
ing, the tendernefs of her nature became as a prey
to her grief; in fine, made a groan of her laft breath,
and now fhe fings in heaven.
2 Lord.
well, that Ends well. 8 1
2 Lord. How is this juftified ?
1 Lord. The ftron-ger part of it by her own letters,
which makes her ftory true, even to the point of her
death ; her Death it felf (which could not be her of-
fice to fay, is come) was faithfully confirm'd by the
Rector of the place.
2 Lord. Hath the Count all this intelligence ?
1 Lord. Ay, and the particular confirmations, point
from point, to the full arming of the verity.
2 Lord. I am heartily forry that he'll be glad of
this.
i Lord. How mightily fometimes we make us
comforts of our lofies !
i Lord. And how mightily fome other times we
drown our gain in tears ! the great dignity, that his va-
lour hath here acquired for him, fhail at home be en-
counter'd with a Ihame as ample.
1 Lord. The web of our life is of a mingled yarn,
good and ill together : our virtues would be proud, if
our faults whipt them not j and our crimes would dew
Ipair, if they were not cherifh'd by our virtues.
Enter a Servant.
How now ? wherc's your Matter ?
Ser. He met the Duke in the ftreet, Sir, of whom
he hath taken a folemn leave : his Lordihip will next
morning for France. The Duke hath offered him let-
ters of commendations to the King.
2 Lord. They mall be no more than needful there,
if they were more than they can commend.
SCENE IV.
Enter Bertram.
i Lord. They cannot be too fweet for the King's
tartnefs : here's his Lordfhip now. How now, my
Lord, is't not after midnight ?
VOL. III. G Ecr.
dll's well, that Ends well.
Ber. I have to night difpatch'd fixteen bufineffes, a
month's length a-piece, by an abftract of fuccefs; I
have congied with the Duke, done my adieu with his
neareft ; buried a wife, mourn'd for her ; writ to my
lady mother, I am returning ; entertained my convoy j
and, between thefe main parcels of difpatch, effected
many nicer needs : the ]aft was the grcateft, but That
I have not ended yet.
2 Lord. If the bufinefs be of any difficulty, and
this morning your departure hence, it requires hafle
of your Lordihip.
Ber. I mean, the bufinefs is not ended, as fearing to
hear of it hereafter. But mall we have this dialogue be-
t-ween the fool and the foldier ? come, + bring forth
this counterfeit Medal ; h'as deceiv'd me, like a dou-
ble-meaning prophefier.
2 Lord. Bring him forth ; h'as fate in the Stocks
all night, poor gallant knave.
Ber. No matter; his heels have deferv'd it, in
yfurping his fpurs fo long. How does he carry him-
fclf?
1 Lord. I have told your Lordfhip already: the
Stocks carry him. But to anfwer you as you would be
underftood, he weeps like a wench that had (hed her
milk , he hath confcfs'd himfelf to Morgan, whom he
fuppofes to be a Friar, from the time of his remem-
brance, to this very inftant di (after of his fetting i'th*
Stocks ; and what, think you, he hath confeft ?
Ber. Nothing of me, has he?
2 Lord. His confeffion is taken, and it fhall be read
to his face : if your Lordihip be in*t, as, 1 believe,
you are, you muft have the patience to hear it.
4 bring forth this counterfeit MODULE;] This epithet is improper
to a module, whicn profefles to be the counterfeit of another thing.
We fhould read MEDAL. And this the Oxford Editor follows*
Enter
All's W/, tlat Ends well 3
Enter Parolles, with his Interpreter.
Ber. A plague upon him, muffled ! he can fay no-
thing of me ; hulh ! hum !
1 Lord. Hoodman comes: PortotartaroJJa.
Int. He calls for the tortures ; what will you fay
without 'em ?
Par. I will confefs what I know without conftraint 5
if ye pinch me like a pafty, I can fay no more.
Int. Bosh Chimurcho.
2 Lord. BiUibindo chicurmurco.
Int. You are a merciful General : our General bids
you anfwer to what 1 {hall ask you out of a note.
Par. And truly, as I hope to live.
Int. Firft demand of him, how many Horfe the
Duke is ftrong. What fay you to that ?
Par. Five or fix thoufand, but very weak and un-
ferviceable : the troops are all fcatter'd, and the Com-
manders very poor rogues, upon my reputation and
credit, and as I hope to live.
Int. Shall I fet down your anfwer fo ?
Par. Do, I'll take the Sacrament on't, bow and
which way you will : all's one to me.
Ber. What a palt-faving flave is this !
1 Lord. Y'are deceiv'd, my Lord, this is Monfieur
Parolles^ the gallant militarift, that was his own
phrafe, that had the whole theory of war in the knot
of his fcarf, and the practice in the chape of his
dagger.
2 Lord. I will never truft a man a'gain for keeping
his fvvord clean ; nor believe, he can have every thing
in him, by wearing his apparel neatly.
Int. Well, that's fet ddwn.
Par. Five or fix thoufand horfe I faid (I will fay
true) or thereabouts, fet down, for I'll fpeak truth.
i Lord. He's very near the truth in this.
G 2 Ber,
#4 All's well, that Ends 'well
Ber. But I con him no thanks for't, in the nature
he delivers it.
Par. Poor rogues, I pray you, fay.
Int. Well, that's fet down.
Par. I humbly thank you, Sir : a truth's a truth,
the rogues are marvellous poor.
Int. Demand of him, of what ftrength they are a-
foot. What fay you to that ?
Par. By my troth, Sir, if I were to live this pre-
fcnt hour, I will tell true. Let me fee ; Spurio a hun-
dred and fifty, Selajlian fo many, Corambus fo many,
Jaques fo many ; Guiltian, Cofmo, Lodowick, and G/ a-
tii, two hundred and fifty each ; mine own company,
Cbitopher, Vaumond^ Bentii, two hundred and fifty
each : fo that the mufter file, rotten and found, upon
my life, amounts not to fifteen thoufand Poll ; half
of the which dare not fhake the fnow from off their
caffocks, left they (hake themfelves to pieces.
Ber. What (hall be done to him ?
i Lord. Nothing, but let him have thanks. De-
mand of him my conditions, and what credit I have
with the Duke.
Int. Well, that's fet down. You mall demand of
him, whether one Captain Dumain be i'th* camp, a
frenchman : what his reputation is with the Duke,
what his valour, honefty, and expertnefs in war ; or
whether he thinks, it were not pofiible with well-weigh-
ing fums of gold to corrupt him to a revolt. What
fay you to this?, what do you know of it ?
Par. I befeech you, Jet me anfwer to the particular
of the Interrogatories. Demand them fingly.
Int. Do you know this Captain Dumain ?
Par. I know him j he was a botcher's prentice in
Paris, from whence he was whipt for getting the
IherirFs fool with child , a dumb innocent, that could
not fay him *y c
Ber.
All's well, that Ends well 85
Ber. Nay, by your leave, hold your hands ; tho* I
know, his brains are forfeit to the next tile that falls.
Int. Well, is this Captain in the Duke of Florences
Camp ?
Par. Upon my knowledge he is, and Jowfie.
i Lord. Nay, look not fo upon me, we ihall hear
of your Lordfhip anon.
Inf. What is his reputation with the Duke?
Par. The Duke knows him for no other but a poor
officer of mine ; and writ to me the other day, to
turn him out o'th' band. I think, I have his letter in
my pocket.
Int. Marry, we'll fearch.
Par. In good fadnefs, I do not know ; either it is
there, or it is upon the file with the Duke's other let-
ters in my tent.
Inf. Here 'tis, here's a paper, mail I read it to you ?
Par. 1 do not know, if it be it or no.
Ber. Our Interpreter does it well.
I Lord. Excellently.
Int. Dian, the Count's afoot, and full of gold.
Par. That is not the Duke's letter, Sir -, that is an
advertifement to a proper maid in Florence, one Dia-
na, to take heed of the allurement of one Count Roa-
fllon, a foolifh idle boy ; but, for all that, very rut-
tifh. I pray you, Sir, put it up again.
Int. Nay, I'll read it firft, by your favour.
Par. My meaning in't, I proteft, was very honeft
in the behalf of the maid j for I knew the young
Count to be a dangerous and lafcivious boy, who is a
whale to virginity, and devours up all the fry it finds.
Ber. Damnable ! both fides rogue.
Interpreter reads the letter.
When be fwears oaths, bid him drop gold, and take it.
After hefcores, he never pays the fcore :
Half won, is match well made ; match, and well make it :
He ne'er pays after debts, take it before.
G 3 And
86 All's <we1I, flat Ends well.
And fay, a foldier (Dian) told thee this :
Men are to mell with, boys are not to kifs.
For, count cf this, the Count's a fool, I know it ;
Wko-pays before, but not when he dees owe it.
Thine, as he vow'd to thee in thine ear,
PAROLLES;
Ecr. He (hall be whipt through the army with this
rhime in his forehead.
2 Lard. This is your devoted friend, Sir, the mani-
fold linguift, and the arm i- potent foldier.
Ber. I could endure any thing before but a cat, and
now he's a cat to me.
Int. I perceive, Sir, by the General's looks, we mall
be fain to hang you.
Par. My life, Sir, in any cafe; not that I am afraid
to die ; but that my offences being many, I would re-
pent out the remainder of nature. Let me live, Sir, in
a Dungeon, i'ch' Stocks, any where, fo I may live.
Int. We'll fee what may be done, fo you confefs
freely ; therefore, once more, to this Captain Dumain :
you have anfvver'd to his reputation with the Duke, and
to his valour. What is his honefty ?
Par. He will fleal, Sir, an egg out of a cloifter j
for rapes and ravilhments he parallels NeJJus. Hepro-
fefles no keeping of oaths j in breaking them he is
ftronger than Hercules. He will lie, Sir, with fuch vo-
lubility, that you would think, truth were a fool :
drunkennefs is his beft virtue, for he will be fwine-
drunk, and in his deep he does little harm, fave to his
Hbed-cloaths about him ; but they know his conditions,
and lay him in draw. I have but little more to fay.
Sir, of his honefly, he has every thing that an honeft
man mould not have ; what an honeft man Ihould
have, he has nothing.
i Lord. I begin to love him for this,
Bar.
All's 'well, that Ends ^ell. 87
Ber. For this defcription of thine honefty ? a pox up-
on him for me, he is more and more a cat.
Int. What fay you to his expertnefs in war ?
Par. Faith, Sir, h'as led the drum before the Eng~
UJh Tragedians : to belie him, I will not ; and more
of his foldierfhip I know not j except, in that Country,
he had the honour to be the Officer at a place there
call'd Mile-end, to inftrucl for the doubling of files. I
would do the man what honour I can, but of this I am
not certain.
1 Lord. He hath out-villain'd villany fo far, that the
rarity redeems him.
Ber. A pox on him, he's a cat ftill.
Int. His Qualities being at this poor price, I need
not to ask you, if gold will corrupt him to revolt.
Par. Sir, for a Quart-d'ecu^ he will fell the fee-fim-
ple of his falvation, the inheritance of it, and cut th'in-
tail from all remainders, and a perpetual fuccefllon for
it perpetually.
Int. What's his Brother, the other Captain Duma'm ?
2 Lord. Why does he ask him of me ?
Int. What's he ?
Par. E^n a crow o'th' fame neft ; not altogether
fo great as the firft in goodnefs, but greater a great deal
in evil. He excels his Brother for a Coward, yet his
brother is reputed one of the beft that is. In a Retreat
he out- runs any lacquey; marry, in coming on he has
the cramp.
Int. If your life befaved, will you undertake to be-
tray the Florentine ?
Par. Ay, and the Captain of his horfe, Count Ron-
fitton.
Int. 1*11 whifper with the General, and know his
pleafure.
Par. I '11 no more drumming, a plague of all drums!
Only to feem to deferve well, and to beguile the fup-
pofition of that lafcivious young boy the Count, have
04 I run
8 8 All's well, that Ends well.
I run into danger -, yet who would have fufpefted an
ambufh where I was taken ? \_Afide.
Int. There is no remedy, Sir, but you muft die ; the
General fays, you, that have fo traiteroufly difcovered
the fecrets of your army, and made fuch peftiferout
reports of men very nobly held, can ferve the world
for no honed ufe ; therefore you muft die. Come,
headfman, off with his head.
Par. O lord, Sir, let me live, or let me fee my
death.
Int. That fhall you, and take your leave of all your
friends. [ Unbinding him.
So, look about you ; know you any here?
Ber. Good morrow, noble Captain.
2 Lord. God blefs you, Captain Parolles.
1 Lord. God fave you, noble Captain.
2 Lord. Caprain, what Greeting will you to my
Lord La feu ? I am for France.
i Lord. Good Captain, will you give me a copy of
that fame Sonnet you writ to Diana in behalf of the
Count Rouftllon ? if I were not a very coward, Pd
compel it of you; but fare you well. [Exeunt.
Int. You are undone, Captain, all but your fcarf ;
that has a knot on't yet.
Par. Who cannot be crufh'd with a Plot ?
Int. If you could find out a Country where but wo-
men were that had receiv'd fo much fhame, you might
begin an impudent Nation. Fare you well, Sir, I am
for France too, we (hall fpeak of you there. [Exit.
SCENE VI.
Par. Yet am I thankful : if my heart were great,
S T would burft at this. Captain I'll be no more,
But I will eat and drink, and fleep as foft,
As Captain fhall. Simply the thing I am
Shall make me live : who knows himfelf a braggart,
Let
All's well, that Ends well 89
Let him fear this ; for it will come to pafs,
That every braggart (hall be found an afs.
Ruft, fword .' cool, bluihes! and, Parollcs* live ^
Safeft in fhame! being fool'd, by fool'ry thrive; >
There's place and means for every man alive.
I'll after them. [Exit.
SCENE VII.
Changes to the Widow's Hoitfe, at Florence.
Enter Helena, Widow and Diana.
Hel. HP HAT you may well perceive I have not
JL wrong'd you,
One of the Created in the chriftian world
Shall be my Surety; 'fore whofe Throne 'tis needful,
Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneel.
Time was, I did him a defired office
Dear almoft as his life , which, gratitude
Through flinty Tartar's bofom would peep forth,
And anfwer thanks. I duly am inform'd,
His Grace is at Marfeittes^ to which place
We have convenient Convoy ; you muft know,
I am fuppofed dead ; the Army breaking,
My husband hies him home ; where, heaven aiding.
And by the leave of my good lord the King,
We'll be before our welcome.
Wid. Gentle Madam,
You never had a fervant, to whofe trufl
Your bufmefs was more welcome.
Hel. Nor you, Miftrefs,
Ever a friend, whofe thoughts more truly labour
To recompenfe your love : doubt not, but heav'n
Hath brought me up to be your Daughter's dower,
As it hath fated her to be 5 my motive
5 my motive] motivt for affiftaat.
And
go All's 'welly tliat Ends
And helper to a husband. But, O ft range men !
That can fuch fweet ufe make of what they hate,
6 When Fancy, truftingof thecozen'd thoughts,
Defiles the pitchy night ; fo luft doth play
With what it loaths, for that which is away.
But more of this hereafter. You, Diana,
(Under my poor inflections) yet muft fuffer
Something in my behalf.
Diana. Let death and honefty
Go with your impofitions, I am yours
Upon your will to fuffer.
Hel. Yet I pray you :
7 But with the word the time will bring on fummer,
When briars {hall have leaves as well as thorns,
And be as fweet as fharp : we muft away,
s Our Waggon is prepar'd, and time revyes us j
mill's well, that ends well ; ftill the fine's the crown ;
Whate'er the courfe, the end is the renown. [Exeunt.
6 When SAUCY trufling of the cozen d thoughts
Defiles the pitchy night:] i. g. makes the perfon guilty of intenti-
onal adultery. But fruiting a miftake cannot make any one guilty.
We fhould read, and point, the lines thus,
When FANCY, trufting of the cozen d thoughts,
Defies the pitchy night.
i. e. the fancy, or imagination, that he by with his miftrefs, tho*
it was, indeed, his Wife, made him incur the guilt of adultery.
Xrgkt, by the ancients, was reckoned odious, obfcene, and ab<>
minable. The Poet, alluding to this, fays, with great beauty,
Defiles the f itchy night, i. e. makes the night, more than ordinary,
abominable.
7 Bui with the word, the time will bring on fummer,] With the
i:zrd, i. e. in an inftant of time. The Oxford Editor reads (but
what he means by it I know not) Rear nuiththe ivord.
8 Our waggon is pn.pa.rd> and time revives us;] The word Re-
vives conveys fo liuie icnfe, that it fcemsvery liable to fufpicion.
time rcvves us
i. e, looks us in the face, calls upon us to haftcn.
SCENE
's well, that Ends well.
SCENE VIII.
Changes to Roufillon in France.
Enter Countefs, Lafeu, and Clown.
XT
1/M
O, no, no, your Son was mif-led with a
fnipt-tafFata fellow there, 9 whofe villain-
ous fafFron would have made all the unbak'd and dowy
youth of a nation in his colour. Your daughter-in-
Jaw had been alive at this hour ; and your fon here at
9 whofe 'villainous faffron would have madt all the unbolt d and
dewy youth of a nation in his colour ] Parolles is reprefented as
an affefted follower of the fafhion, and an encourager of his matter
to run into all the follies of it ; where he fays, Ufe a more fpa-
cious ceremony to the noble Lords they wear them/elves in the cap
eftime - and the? the Devi/ had the meafure, fuch are to be fol-
lowed. Here fome particularities of fafnionable drefs are ridiculed.
Snipt-taffata needs no explanation ; but villainous fajfron is more
oblcure. This alludes to a phantaftic fafhion, then much follow-
ed, of ufmg yellow Jlarch for their bands and ruffs. So Fletcher,
in his Queen of Corinth,
- -- Has he familiarly
Dijlitfdyour yellow ftarch ; or faid your doublet
Was not exafily frenchified -
And Johnfon > & Devifs an dfs.
Carmen and cbimny-fweepers are got Into the yellow ftarch.
This was invented by one Turner, a 'tire-woman, a court-bawd ;
and, in all refpcdls, of fo infamous a character, that her invention
dcferved the name of villainous fajfron. This woman was, after-
wards, amongft the mifcreants concerned in the murder of Sir Tho-
mas Overburyi for which fhe was hanged at Tyburn, and would die
inaju&w ruff vi her own invention : which made yellow ftarch fo
odiouf, that it immediately went out of fafhion. *Tis this, then, to
which Shakefpear alludes: but ufmg the word/a^ron for ye/tow, a
pew idea prelented it felf, and he purfues his thought under a quite
different allufion Whofe 'villainous faffron would have made
all the unbaked and doixy youths of a nation in his colour, i. e. of his
temper and difpofition. Here the general cuftom of that time, of
colouring pafie with fafFron, is alluded to. So in the Winter s Tale :
I muft have faffron to colour the warden pyes.
home,
02 M's W/, /A*/ E*7</j well.
home, ' more advantaged by the King, than by that
red-tail'd humble-bee I fpeak of.
Count. I would, I had not known him ! it was the
death of the moft virtuous Gentlewoman that ever Na-
ture had Praife for creating ; if me had partaken of
my flefh, and coft me the deareft groans of a Mother,
I could not have owed her a more rooted love.
Laf. 'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady. We
may pick a thoufand fallets ere we light on fuch ano-
ther herb.
Cto. Indeed, Sir, fhe was the fweet marjoram of the
falJer, or rather the herb of grace.
Laf. They are not fallet-herbs, you knave, they
are nofe-herbs.
Clo. I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, Sir, I have
not much skill in grafs.
Laf. Whether doll thou profefs thy felf, a knave
or a fool ?
Clo. A fool. Sir, at a woman's fervice 5 and a
knave, at a man's.
Laf. Your diftinflion ?
Clo. I would cozen the man of his wife, and do his
fervice.
Laf. So you were a knave at his fervice, indeed.
Clo. And I would give his wife my folly, Sir, to
do her fervice.
Laf. I will fubfcribe for thee, thou art both knave
and fool.
Clo. At your fervice.
Laf. No, no, no.
i mtre ADVANCED ly the King,"] A notable obfervation this j
that the young Lord had been higher advanced by the King had
he ftaid at court, than he was by his beggerly follower Parolles.
V/e fhonid read, more ADVANTAGED, i e. the King would have
Jjeen a better tutor to the raw young man than Parolles y whofe pro-
ftilion it was.
Clo.
All's <well, that Ends wlL 93
Clo. Why, Sir, if I cannot ierve you, I can fcrve
as great a Prince as you arc.
Laf. Who's that, a Frenchman ?
Clo. Faith, Sir, he has an Englijh name ; but his
* phifnomy is more honour'd in Frame than there.
Laf What Prince is that ?
Clo. The black Prince, Sir, alias the Prince of
Darknefs, alias the Devil.
Laf. Hold thee, there's my purfe ; I give thee not
this to feduce thee from thy Mafter thou talk'ft of,
ferve him ftill.
Clo. J Pm a woodland fellow, Sir, that alwayi
lov'd a great fire ; and the Mafter I fpeak of ever
keeps a good fire ; but, fure, he is the Prince of the
world, let his Nobility remain in's Court. I am for
the Houfe with the narrow gate, which I take to
be too little for Pomp to enter : fome, that humble
themfelves, may ; but the many will be too chill and
tender, and they'll be for the flow'ry way that leads to
the broad gate, and the great fire.
Laf. Go thy ways, I begin to be a weary of thee,
and I tell thee fo before, becaufe I would not fall out
with thee. Go thy ways, let my horfes be well lookM
to, without any tricks.
Clo. If I put any tricks upon *em, they fhall be jades'
tricks, which are their own right by the law of Na-
ture. [Exit.
2 his phit'nomy it mart HOTTER, in France than there. ~\ This
is intolerable nonfenfe. The itupid Editors, becaufe the Devil was
talked of, thought no quality would fuit him but hotter. We
ihould read, tnore HONOUR'D. A joke upon the French
people, as if they held a dark complexion, which is natural to
them, in more eftimation than the Engli/h do, who are generally
white and fair.
3 Tm a. woodland fellow, Sir, &c.] Sbaktfpear is but rarely
guilty of fuch impious tram. And it is obfervable, that then he
ahvays puts that into the mouth of hisfoo/t t which is now grown
the chara&eriftic of thcfine-gtntleman,
Laf.
94 dll's 'welly that EfiJs 'well
Laf. A fhrewd knave, and an unhappy.
Count. So he is. My Lord, that's gone, made him-
felf much fport out of him ; by his authority he re-
mains here, which he thinks is a patent for his fawci-
nefs ; and, indeed, he has no pace, but runs where he
will.
Laf. I like him well, 'tis not amifs ; and I was
about to tell you, fmce I heard of the good Lady's
death, and that my Lord your Son was upon his
return home, I mov'd the King, my Mafter, to fpeak
in the behalf of my Daughter j which, in the minori-
ty of them both, his Majefty, out of a felf-gracious
remembrance, did firft propoie; his Highnefs hath
promis'd me to do it , and to flop up the difpleafure
he hath conceived againfl your fon, there is no fitter
matter. How do's your Lady (hip like it ?
Count. With very much content, my Lord 9 and I
wifh it happily effected.
Laf. His Highnefs comes poft from Marfeilles, of
as able a body as when he numbered thirty ; he will be
here to morrow, or I am deceiv'd by him that in fuch
intelligence hath feldom faii'd.
Count. 4 It rejoices me, that hope, that I fhall fee
him ere I die. I have letters, that my fon will be
here to night: I flull befeech your Lordihip to remain
with me 'till they meet together.
Laf. Madam, I was thinking with what manners I
might fafely be admitted.
Count. You need but plead your honourable privi-
lege.
Laf. Lady, of that I have made a bold charter ;
but, I thank my God, it holds yet.
4 // rejoices me, that I hope IJhall fee him ere I die.'] It is not
hope that rejoices any one ; but, that that hope is well grounded.
We fhould read, therefore, It rejoices me t that hope, that 1 Jhall
Jet him ere I die.
Enter
All's well, that EnJs well.
Enter Clown.
Ck. O Madam, yonder's my Lord, your fon, with
a patch of velvet on's face ; whether there be a fear
under'c, or no, the velvet knows, but 'tis a goodly
patch of velvet ; his left cheek is a cheek of two pile
and a half, but his right check is worn bare.
Count. A fear nobly got, or a noble fear, is a good
livery of honour. t So, belike, is that.
Clo. 5 But it is your carbinado'd face.
Laf. Let us go fee your fon, I pray you : I long
to talk with the young noble foldier.
Clo. 'Faith, there's a dozen of 'em with delicate fine
hats and moft courteous feathers, which bow the head,
and nod at every man. [Exeunt.
ACT V. SCENE I.
T'he Court of France, at Marfeilles.
Enter Helena, Widow, and Diana, with two Attendants*
HELENA.
BUT this exceeding pofting day and night
Muft wear your fpirits low j we cannot help it.
But fince you've made the days and nights as one,
To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs ;
Be bold, you do fo grow in my requital,
As nothing can unroot you. In happy time, -
Enter a Gentleman.
This man may help me to his Majefty's ear,
5; But it h your carbon ado" d face] Mr. Pope reads it carbinadod t
which is right:. The joke, fuch as it is, confiits in the allufion to
a wound made with a carabine ; arms, which Henry IV. had made
famous, by bringing into ufe amongft his horfe.
96 dll's well, that Ends
If he would fpend his power. God fave you, Sir.
Gent. And you.
HeL Sir, I have feen you in the court of France^
Gent. I have been fometimes there.
HeL I do prefume, Sir, that you are not fallen
From the report that goes upon your goodnefs ;
And therefore, goaded with moft (harp occafions
Which lay nice manners by, I put you to
The ufe of your own virtues, for'the which
I Ihall continue thankful.
Gent. What's your will ?
HeL That it will pleafe you
To give this poor petition to the King;
And aid me with that ftore of power you have,
To come into his prefence.
Gent. The King's not here.
HeL Not here, Sir?
Gent. Not, indeed.
He hence remov'd laft night, and with more haftc
Than is his ufe.
Wid. Lord, how we lofe our pains !
HeL All 's well, that ends well yet,
Tho* time feem fo adverfe, and means unfit:
I do befeech you, whtiher is he gone ?
Gent. Marry, as I take it, to Roufillon y
Whither I'm going.
HeL I befeech you, Sir,
Since you are like to fee the King before me,
Commend this paper to his gracious hand ;
Which, I prefume, mall render you no blame,
But rather make you thank your pains for it.
I will come after you with what good fpecd
Our means will make us means.
Gent. This I'll do for you.
HeL And you (hall find yourfelf to be well thank'd,
What e'er falls more. We muft to horfe again.
Go, go, provide, [Exeunt.
SCENE
Alfs <well, tlat Ends well. 97
SCENE II.
Changes to Roufillon.
Enter Clown, and Parolles.
OOD Mr. Levatcb t give my Lord Lafeu
this letter ; I have ere now, Sir, been better
known to you, when I have held familiarity with
frefher cloaths ; ' but I am now, Sir, muddied in for-
tune's moat, and fmell fomewhat ftrong of her flrong
difpleafure.
Clo. Truly, fortune's difpleafure is but fluttifh, if
it fmell fo ftrongly as thou fpeak'ft of: I will hence-
forth eat no fim of fortune's butt'ring. Pr'ythee,
allow the wind.
Par. Nay, you need not to flop your nofe, Sir 5 I
fpake but by a metaphor.
Clo. * Indeed, Sir, if your metaphor (link, I will
ftop my nofe againil any man's metaphor. Pr'ythee,
get thee further. Par.
1 but I am noiu, Sir, muddied in fortune s Mood, qnd fmell
fomenuhat ftrong of 'her flrong difp/eafurt.} I believe the poet wrote,
in fortune's moat ; becaufe tne Clown in the very next fpeech re-
plies, I will henceforth eat no fifh of fortune's buti ring; and again,
when he comes to repeat Parolles^ petition to Lafeu, that hatb
falTn into the unclean fifhpond of her difp'eafure, and, as he fays, it
muddied withal. And again, Pray you, Sir, ufe the carp at yox
may, &c. In all which places, 'tis obvious a moat or pond is the
allufion. Bcfides, Parolles fmelling ftrong, as he fays, of fortune'*
itrong difpleafure, carries on the fame image ; for as the moats round
old feats were always replenish' d with fifh,, fo the Clown's joke of
holding his nofe, we may prefume, proceeded from this, that the
privy was always over the moat ; and therefore the Clown hu
mouroufly fays, when Parolles is preiling him to deliver his letter
to Lord Lafeu, Fob! pr*ythee, ft and aivay ; a paper from fortifnit
clofeitool. to give to a Nobleman!
2 Indeed, Sir, if your metaphor jlink, I ivill flop my tiofe agaifift
I. any mans metaphor.] Nothing could be conceived with greater hu'
i znour, or juitnefs of fatire, than this fpeech. The ufe of the
VOL. III. H
Alts well, that Ends 'well.
Par. Pray you, Sir, deliver me this paper.
Clo. Fob! pr'ythee, (land away, a paper from
fortune's clofe-ftool, to give to a Nobleman! look,
here he comes himfclf.
Enter Lafeu.
Here is a pur of fortune's, Sir, or fortune's cat,
(but not a musk-cat ;) that hath fall'n into the unclean
filhpond of her difpleafure, and, as he fays, is mud-
died withal. Pray you, Sir, ufe the carp as you may ;
Cor he looks like a poor, decayed, ingenious, .foolifh,
rafcally knave. J i do pity his diftrels in my fimilies
of comfort, and leave him to your Lordfhip.
Par. My Lord, I am a man whom fortune hath
cruelly fcratch'd.
Laf. And what would you have me to do? 'tis too
late to pare her nails now. Wherein have you play'd
the knave with fortune, that me mould fcratch you,
who of herfelf is a good Lady, and would not have
knaves thrive long under her? there's a Quart-d'ccu
fijr you : let the juftices make you and fortune friends ;
I am for other bufmefs.
Jlinking metaphors is an odious fault, which grave writers often com-
mit. It is not uncommon to fee moral declaimers againft vice,
defcribc her as Hejlad did the Fury Trijlilia:
Tti? ..t pii'fc'c juJrst' pkov.
Upon which Longinus juilly obferves, that, inftead of giving a terrible
image, he has given a very naily one. Cicero cautions well againft
it, in his book a'eOrat. Quoniam hf?c, fays he, <vel fumma laus eft in
urrbis transferendh ut fenjum feriat id, quod tranjlatum fit, fugienda
eft omnis turfiludo earum rerun, ad quas eorum animos qui auetiunt
trabet fimilitudo, Nola morte diet Africani caflratam ejfe rempubli-
cam Nolo itercus curia; did Glauciam. Our poet himfelf is ex-
tremely delicate in this refpeftj who, throughout his large writings,
if you except a paftage in Hamlet , has fcarce a metaphor that can
offend the moll fqueamiih reader.
3 / pity his dijlrefs in my SMILES of comfort,] We (hould read,
si Mi LIES of comfort, fuch as the calling him fort unit cat, carp, &c.
Par,
Alfs 'well, that Ends 'well.
Par. I befeech your honour, to hear me one fingle
word.
Laf. You beg a fingle penny more: come, you
fhall ha't, fave your word.
Par. My name, my good Lord, is Parottes.
Laf. You beg more than one word then. Cox*
my paflion ! give me your hand : how does your
drum?
Par. O my good lord, you were the firft that
found me.
Laf. Was I, infooth ? and I was the firft that loft
thee.
Par. It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in fome
grace, for you did bring me out.
Laf. Out upon thee, knave ! doft thou put upon
me at once both the office of God and the Devil ? one
brings thee in grace, and the other brings thee out.
[Sound Trumpets."] The King's coming, 1 know, by
his trumpets. Sirrah, inquire further after me, I had
talk of you laft night ; tho* you are a fool and a
knave, you lhall eat ; go to, follow.
Par. I praife God for you. [Exeunt i
SCENE III.
Flourijb. Enter King, Countefs, Lafeu, the two French
with Attendants,
King. We loft a jewel of her, 4 our efteem
Was made much poorer by it ; but your fon,
As mad in folly, lack'd the fenfe to know
Her eftimation home.
Count. *Tis paft, my Liege ;
And I befeech your Majefty to make it
4 - our efteem] Efteem is here ufed for ejtimation, in the
fenfe of worth, eftate
H 2 Natu-
ico difs welly that Ends well.
* Natural rebellion, done i'th* blade of youth,
When oil and fire, too ftrong for reafon's force,
O'erbears it, and burns on.
King. My honour'd Lady,
I have forgiven and forgotten all ;
Tho* my revenges were high bent upon him,
And watch'd the time to fhoot.
Laf. This I muft fay,
But firft I beg my pardon ; the young Lord
Did to his Majefty, his mother, and his lady,
Offence of mighty note ; but to himfelf
The greateft wrong of all. He loft a wife,
Whole beauty did aftonifh the furvey
Of richeft eyes ; whofe words all ears took captive ;
Whofe dear perfection, hearts, that fcorn'd to ferve,
Humbly cali'd miftrefs.
King. Praifing what is loft,
Makes the remembrance dear. Well call him
hither ;
We're reconcil'd, and the firft view mall kill
All repetition : let him not ask our pardon.
The nature of his great offence is dead,
And deeper than oblivion we do bury
Th* incenfing relicks of it. Let him approach,
A ftranger, no offender -, and inform him,
So 'tis our will he mould.
Gent. I mall, my Liege.
King. What fays he to your daughter? Have you
fpoke ?
Laf. All, that he is, hath reference to your Highnefs.
5 Natural rebellion, donei'tb" BLADE of youth,'] The whole fi-
gure here emplcy'd fhe\vs we (hould read,
f th' BLAZB of youth,
i. f, in fervour, flame. So in Tnilut and CreJfiJa,
For Heftor, in hit blaze of <wratb, fubfcribtt
Tf tfndtr objtfts
King.
well, that Ends luelh 1 1
J>
King. Then mall we have a match., j have letter?,
fent me, : , . i
That fet him high in fame.
SCENE IV.
Enter Bertram.
Laf. He looks well on't.
King. Pm not a day of feafon,
For thou may'ft fee a fun-mine and a hail
In me at once ; but to the brighteft beams
Diftracted clouds give way j fo ftand thou forth,
The time is fair again.
Ber. My high repented blames,
Dear Sovereign, pardon to me.
King. All is whole,
Not one word more of the confumed time,
Let's take the inftant by the forward top ;
For we are old, and on our quick'ft decrees
Th' inaudible and noifelefs foot of time
Steals, ere we can effect them. You remember
The daughter of this Lord ?
Ber. Admiringly, my Liege. At firft
I ftuck my choice upon her, ere my heart
Durft make too bold a herald of my tongue :
Where the impreflion of mine eye enfixing,
Contempt his fcornful perfpeetive did lend me,
Which warp'd the line of every other favour ;
* Scorch'd a fair colour, or exprefs'd it ftoll'ns
Extended
6 ScORN'nayinV colour, or exprefid it J)o!rn;~] firft t it is to
be obferved, that this young man's cafe was not indifference to the
fex in general, bat a very itrong attachment to one ; therefore he
could not /corn a fair colour, for it was that which had captivated
him. But he might very naturally be faid to do what men, ftrongly
attach'd to one, commonly do, not allow beauty in any face but
his iniRrefs's. And that this was the thought here, is evident,
H 3 I. From
All's well, that Ends <welL
' .Exten'ded &T contracted all proportions
T-e.a.moft hideous obji-cl: : thence it came,
^hat-'lBe,- -Wbbm 4ll men prais'd, and whom myfelf,
Since I have loft, have lov'd, was in mine eye
The duft that did offend it.
King. Well excus'd :
That thou do'ft love her, ftrikes fome fcores away
From the great 'compt , but love, that comes too late,
Like a remorfeful pardon {lowly carried,
To the great fender turns a ibwre offence,
Crying, that's good that is gone: our ram faults
7 Make trivial price of ferious things we have,
Not knowing them, until we know their grave.
Oft our difpleafures, to ourfelves unjuft,
Deftroy our friends, and, after, weep their duft :
1 . From the latter part of the verfe,
or exprefs'd it Jloirn ;
2. From the proceeding verie,
Which ivarp'd the line cf every other favour J
3. From the following verfes,
Extended or contracted all proportions
a moft hideous cbjefi : <
Secondly, It is to be obferved, that he defcribes his indifference
for others in highly figurative exprefllons. Contempt is brought in
lending him her perfpe&ive-glafs, which does its office properly by
Carping the lines of all other faces ; by extending or contraShg into
a hideous objeS ; or by expreffing or mewing native red and white
as paint. But with what propriety of fpeech can this glak be faid
to f corn, which is an affettion of the mind ? Here then the meta-
phor becomes miferably mangled ; but the foregoing obfervation
will lead us to the genuine reading, which is,
SCORCH'D a fair colour, or expreffd itjlojl'x;
i. e. this glafs reprefented the owner as brown or tanned ; or, if
not fo, caufed the native colour to appear artificial Thus he fpeaks
in character, and confiftently with the reft of his fpeech. The
emendation reftores integrity to the figure, and, by a beautiful
thought, makes the fcornful perfpeftive of contempt do the office of
a burning gla/s .
7 Make tn-vial price of ferious things ~\ Serious for valuable.
In this, fenfe a certain Prebendary of Wejlminfter underflood the word,
wben he ufed to tell his friends, A Jhilltng ivas a/erious thing.
Our
All's well, that Ends well. 103
Our own love waking cries to fee what's done,
While fhameful hate fleeps out the afternoon.
Be this fweet Helen's knell ; and now, forget her.
Send forth your amorous token for fair Maudlin^
The main contents are had, and here we'll (lay
To fee our widower's fecond marriage-day :
Count. Which better than the firft, O dear heav'n,
blefs,
Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, ceafe!
Laf. Come on, my (on, in whom my houle's name
Muft be digefted : give a favour from you
To fparkle in the fpirits of my daughter,
That (he may quickly come. By my old beard,
And every hair that's on't, Helen, that's dead,
Was a fweet creature : fuch a ring as this,
The lad that ere (he took her leave at court,
I faw upon her finger.
Ber. Her's it was not.
King. Now, pray you, let me fee it : For mine eye,
While I was fpeaking, oft was faften'd to't.
This ring was mine; and, when I gave it Helen >
I bad her, if her fortunes ever flood
Neceffitied to help, that by this token
I would relieve her. Had you that craft to reave her
Of what fhould (lead her mod ?
Ber. My gracious Sovereign,
Howe'er it pleafes you to take it fo,
The ring was never her's.
Count. Son, on my life,
I've feen her wear it, and (he reckoned it
At her life's rate.
Laf. I'm fure, I faw her wear it.
Ber. You are deceiv'd, my Lord, fhe never faw it;
In Florence was it from a cafement thrown me,
Wrap'd in a paper, which conrain'd the name
Of her that threw it : Noble (he was, and thought
I flood engag'd ; but when I had iubfcrib'd
H 4 To
ic 4 dX* well, that End
To mine own fortune, and inform'd her fully,
1 could not anfwer in that courfe of honour
As Ihe had made the overture, Ihe ceaft
In heavy fatisfa&ion, and would never
Receive the ring again.
King. Plutus himfelf,
That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine,
Hath not in nature's myflery more fcience,
Than I have in this ring. 'Twas mine, 'twas Helen's*
Whoever gave it you: 8 then if you know,
That you are well acquainted with yourfelf,
Confefs 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement
You got it from her. She call'd the Saints to furety,
That me would never put it from her finger,
Unlefs me gave it to yourfelf in bed,
(Where you have never comej or fent it us
Upon her great difafter.
Ber. She never faw it.
King. Thou fpeak'ft it falfely, as I love mine
honour ;
And mak'ft conjecVral fears to come into me,
Which I would fain fhut out j if it mould prove
That thou art fo inhuman 'twill not prove fo
And yet I know not thou didft hate her deadly,
And (he is dead j which nothing, but to clofe
Her eyes myfelf, could win me to believe,
More than to fee this ring. Take him away.
[Guards feize Bertram.
My fore- pad proofs, howe'er the matter fall,
Shall tax my fears of little vanity,
Having vainly fear'd too little. Away with him,
We'll lift this matter further.
Ber. If you Ihall prove,
This ring was ever hers, you mall as eafie
then if you knoiu.
That you are well acquainted with yourfelf, "} i. e. then if you
be wife. A ftrange way of expreffing fo trivial a thought !
Prove
Alls welly flat Ends well. 105
Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence,
Where yet (he never was. [Exit Bertram guarded,
SCENE V.
Enter a Gentleman.
King. I'm wrap'd in difmal thinkings.
Gent. Gracious Sovereign,
Whether I've been to blame or no, I know not:
Here's a petition from a Florentine,
9 Who hath fome four or five removes come fhort
To tender it herfelf. I undertook it,
Vanquilh'd thereto by the fair grace and fpeech
Of the poor fuppliant, who by this, I know,
Is here attending : her bufinefs looks in her
With an importing vifoge ; and me told me,
In a fweet verbal brief, it did concern
Your Highnefs with herfelf.
The King reads a letter.
Upon bis many proteftations to marry me^ when bis
wife was dead, I Uujh to fay it, be won me. Now is
the Count Roufillon a widower, bis vows are forfeited
to me, and my honour's paid to him. He jlole from
Florence, taking no leave, and I follow him to this
country for jujlice : grant it me, King, in you it beft
lyes ; otherwise a feducer fourijhes t and a poor maid is
undone.
Diana Capulet.
Laf. I will buy me a fon-in-law in a fair, and toll
for him. For this, I'll none of him.
9 Who hath F OK four or five removes tome Jhert\ We (hould
read, Who bath SOME four or five removes come Jhort.
So in King Lear,
For that 1 am SO\JE twelve or fourteen mion/binei
Lag of a brother, '-
King.
106 d.lts welly that Ends
King. The heavens have thought well on thee,
La/eii,
To bring forth this difcov'ry. Seek thefe fuitors:
Go fpeedily, and bring again the Count.
Enter Bertram.
I am afraid, the life of Helen (lady)
Was foully fnatch'd.
Count. Now juftice on the doers!
King. I wonder, Sir, wives are fo monftrous to
you,
And that you fly them as you fwear to them ;
Yet you defire to wed. What woman's that?
Enter Widow and Diana.
Dia. I am, my Lord, a wretched Florentine^
Derived from the ancient Capulet ;
My fuit, as I do underftand, you know,
And therefore know how far I may be pitied.
Wul. I am her mother, Sir, whofe age and honour
Both fufter under this complaint we bring,
And both mail ceafe without your remedy.
King. Come hither, Count j do you know thefe
women ?
Ber. My Lord, I neither can, nor will, deny
But that I know them ; do they charge me further ?
Dia. Why do you look fo ftrange upon your wife ?
Ber. She's none of mine, my Lord.
Dia. If you fhall marry,
You give away this hand, and that is mine;
You give away heav'n's vows, and thofe are mine 5
You give away myfelf, which is known mine;
For I by vow am fo embodied yours,
That me, which marries you, mult marry me,
Either both or none.
Laf. Your reputation comes too fhort for my
daughter, you are no husband for her. [To Bertram.
Alts welly that Ends well. 107
Eer. My Lord, this is a fond and defp'rate creature,
Whom fometime I have laugh'd with: let your
Highnefs
Lay a more noble thought upon mine honour,
Than for to think that I would fink it here.
King. Sir for my thoughts, you have them ill to
friend,
'Till your deeds gain them : fairer prove your honour,
Than in my thought it lies !
Dia. Good my lord,
Ask him upon his oath, if he does think
He had not my virginity.
King. What fay'ft thou to her?
Eer. She's impudent, my Lord 5
And was a common gamefter to the camp.
Dia. He does me wrong, my Lord ; if I were fo,
He might have bought me at a common price.
Do not believe him. O, behold this ring,
Whofe high refpect and rich validity
Did lack a parallel : yet for all that,
He gave it to a commoner o'th' camp,
If I be one.
Count, He blufhes, and 'tis his :
Of fix preceding anceftors, that gemm
Conferr'd by Teftament to th* fequent iflue,
Hath it been ovv'd and worn. This is his wife,
That ring's a thoufand proofs.
King Methought, you faid,
You faw one here in Court could witnefs it.
Dia. I did, my Lord, but loth am to produce
So bad an instrument ; his name's Parolles.
Laf. I faw the man to day, if man he be.
King. Find him, and bring him hither.
Eer. What of him ?
He's quoted for a mod perfidious Have,
With all the fpots o'th' world tax'd and debofh'd,
Which nature fickens with: but to fpeak truth,
Am
All's 'well, that Ends well.
Am I or that or this, for what he'll utter,
That will fpcak any thing?
King. She hath that ring of yours.
Ber. I think, (he has ; certain it is, I lik'd her.
And boarded her i'th* wanton way of youth :
She knew her diftance, and did angle for me,
Madding my eagernefs with her reftraint ;
As all impediments in fancy's courfe
Are motives of more fancy : and in fine,
Her infuit coming with her modern grace,
Subdu'd me to her rate : me got the ring \
And I had That, which any inferior might
At market-price have bought.
Dia. I muft be patient :
You, that turn'd off a firft fo noble wife,
May juftly x diet me. I pray you yet,
(Since you lack virtue, I will lofe a husband,)
Send for your ring, I will return it home,
And give me mine again.
Ber. I have it not.
King. What ring was yours, I pray you ?
Dia. Sir, much like the fame upon your finger.
King. Know you this ring? this ring was his of late.
Dia. And this was it I gave him, being a-bed.
King. The ftory then goes falfe, you threw it him
Out of a cafement.
Dia. I have fpoke the truth.
SCENE VI.
Enter Parolles.
Ber. My Lord, I do confefs, the ring was hers.
King. You boggle fhrewdly, every feather ftarts
you!
i diet me. ] /'. e. ufe me fcarfhly. A phrafe taken from
the fevere methods taken in curing the venereal difordtr.
Is
All's well, that Ends well. 109
Is this the man you fpeak of?
Dia. It is, my Lord.
King. Tell me, Sirrah, but tell me true, I charge
you,
Not fearing the difpleafure of your matter,
Which on your juft proceeding I'll keep off;
By him and by this woman here, what know you ?
Par. So pleafe your Majefty, my mailer hath been
an honourable Gentleman. Tricks he hath had in
him, which Gentlemen have.
King. Come, come, to the purpofe j did he love this
Woman ?
Par. 'Faith, Sir, he did love her j but how ?
King. How, I pray you ?
Par. He did love her, Sir, as a Gentleman loves
a Woman.
King. How is that?
Par. He lov'd her, Sir, and lov'd her not,
King. As thou art a knave, and no knave ; what
an equivocal companion is this ?
Par. I am a poor man, and at your Majefty's
Command.
Laf. He's a good drum, my Lord, but a naughty
Orator.
Dia. Do you know, he promised me marriage?
Par, 'Faith, I know more than I'll fpeak.
King. But wilt thou not fpeak all thou know'ft?
Par. Yes, fo pleafe your Majefly. I did go between
them, as I faid j but more than that, he lov'd her :
for, indeed, he was mad for her, and talk'd of Satan,
and of limbo, and of furies, and I know not what ;
yet I was in that credit with them at that time, that
I knew of their going to bed, and of other motions,
as promifmg her marriage, and things that would
derive me ill will to fpeak of; therefore I will not
fpeak what I know.
1 1 o Alts well, that Ends well.
King. Thou haft fpoken all already, unlefsthoucan'fl
fay they are married ; but thou art too fine in thy
evidence ; therefore (land afide. This ring, you fay,
was yours ?
Dia. Ay, my good Lord.
King. Where did you buy it? or who gave it
you?
Dia. It was not given me, nor did I buy it.
King. Who lent it you ?
Dia. It was not lent me neither.
King. Where did you find it then ?
Dia. I found it not.
King. If it were yours by none of all thefe ways,
How could you give it him ?
Dia. I never gave it him.
Laf. This woman's an eafie glove, my Lord, fhe
goes off and on at pleafure.
King. This ring was mine, I gave it his firft wife.
Dia. It might be yours, or hers, for aught I
know.
King. Take her away, I do not like her now;
To prifon with her: and away with him.
Unlefs thou tell'ft me where thou hadft this ring,
Thou dieft within this hour.
Dia. I'll never tell you.
King. Take her away.
Dia. I'll put in bail, my Liege.
King. I think thee now fome common cuftomer.
Dia. By Jove^ if ever I knew man, 'twas you.
King. Wherefore haft thou accus'd him all this
while?
Dia. Bccaufe he's guilty, and he is not guilty ;
He knows, I am no maid, and he'll fwear to'tj
I'll fwear, I am a maid, and he knows not.
Great King, I am no ftrumpet, by my life ;
I'm either maid, or elfe this old man's wife.
[Pointing to Lafeu.
King.
All's welly that Ends <well.
King. She does abufe our ears ; to prifon with her.
Dia. Good mother, fetch my bail. Stay, royal Sir.
[Exit Widow.
The jeweller, that owes the ring, is fent tor,
And he fhall furety me. But for this Lord,
III
[to Bertram*
imfelf,
Who hath abus'd me, as he knows him
Tho' yet he never harm'd me, here I quit him.
He knows himfelf, my bed he hath defiPd,
And at that time he got his wife with child ;
Dead tho' me be, me feels her young one kick :
So there's my riddle ; one, that's dead, is quick.
And now behold the meaning.
Enter Helena, and Widow.
King. Is there no Exorcift
Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes ?
Is't real, that I fee ?
HeL No, my good Lord,
'Tis but a fhadow of a wife you fee,
The name, and not the thing.
JBer. Both, both; oh, pardon!
HeL Oh, my good Lord, when I was like this
maid,
I found you wond'rous kind ; there is your ring, '
And look you, here's your letter: this it fays,
When from my finger you can get this ring.
And are by me with child, &c. This is done.
Will you be mine, now you are doubly won ?
Ber. If me, my Liege, can make me know this
clearly,
I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly.
HeL If it appear not plain, and prove untrue,
Deadly divorce ftep between me and you !
O my dear mother, do I fee you living ?
[to the Countefs.
Laf.
1 2 J TW //,
Z,d/. Mine eyes fmell onions, I mall weep anon ?
Good Tom Drum, lend me a handkerchief*
[To Parolles.
So, I thank thee, wait on me home. I'll make fport
with thee : lee thy courtefies alone, they are fcurvy
ones.
King. Let us from point to point this flory know,
To make the even truth in pleafure flow :
If thou beeft yet a frefh uncropped flower,
[To Diana.
Chufe thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower j
For I can guefs, that, by thy honeft aid,
Thou kept'ft a wife herfelf, thyfelf a maid.
Of that and all the progrefs more and Iefs 9
Refolvedly more leifure fhall exprefs:
All yet feems well ; and if it end fo meet,
The bitter paft, more welcome is the fweet.
[Exeunt.
E P I-
EPILOGUE,
Spoken by the K I N G.
tT* H E King's a beggar, now the play is done*
All is well ended, ifthisfuit be won >
That you exprefs content j which we will pay,
With Jt rife to pleafe you, day exceeding day -,
Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts $
Tour gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts.
VOL. III.
TWELFTH*
fWE L FTH-NIGH
O R,
WHAT YOU WILL.
I 2
DRAMATIS PERSONM.
O RSI NO, Duke of Illyria.
Sebaftian, a young Gentleman, Brother to Viola.
Antonio, a Sea-captain 9 Friend to Sebaftian.
Valentine, 7
p . j Gentlemen, attending on we Duke.
Sir Toby Belch, Uncle to Olivia.
Sir Andrew Ague-cheek, a feolijb Knight, pretending
to Olivia.
A Sea- captain, Friend to Viola.
Fabian, Servant to Olivia.
Malvolio, a fantaftical Steward to Olivia.
Clown, Servant to Olivia.
Olivia, a 'Lady of great Beauty and Fortune, belov'd
by the Duke.
Viola, in love with the Duke.
Maria, Olivia's Woman*
Prieft, Sailors, Officers, and other Attendants.
SCENE, a City on the Co aft of Illyria.
LFTH-
TWELFTH-NIGHT:
OR,
WHAT YOU WILL.
ACT I. SCENE I.
Me PALACE.
Enter the Duke, Curio, and Lords.
DUKE.
F mufick be the food of love, play on -,
Give me excefs of it ; * that, forfeiting
The appetite, Love may ficken, and fo
die. Hall:
* That ftrain again ; it had a clying
' O, it came o'er my ear, like the fweet fouth,
" That
1 that, forfeiting
The Appetite mayjicken, and fo die.] There is an impropriety
of expreflion in the prefent reading of this fine paffage. We do
not fay, that the appetite /ickens and dies thro 1 a forfeit ; but the
fubjecl of that appetite. I am perfuaded, a word is accidentally
dropt j and that we Khould read, and point, the paflage thus,
that, forfeiting
The appetite, LOVB mayjicken, and fo die.
2 That ftrain again ; it had a dying fall:
O ! it came o'er my tar, likt the fiueet futb,
I 3 That
TWELPTH-N IGHT : Of,
" That breathes upon a bank of violets,
u Stealing, and giving odour. Enough ! no more ;
'Tis not fo fweet now, as it was before.
O fpirit of love, how quick and frefh art thou!
That, notwithftanding thy capacity
Receiveth as the fea, nought enters there,
Of what validity and pitch foe'er,
But falls into abatement and low price,
Even in a minute; J fo full of (hapes in fancy,
That it alone is hight fantaftical.
Cur.
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odour ] Amongft the beauties of
this charming umilitude, its exadt propriety is not the leafl. For,
as a ibuth wind, while blowing over a violet-bank, wafts away
the odour of the flowers, it, at the fame time, communicates its
own fweetnefs to it ; fo the foft affefting mufick, here defcribed,
tho' it takes away the natural, fweet, tranquillity of the mind, yet,
at the fame time, it communicates a new pleafure to it. Or, it
may allude to another property of mufick, where the fame ftrains
have a power to excite pain or pleafure, as the ftate is, in which
it finds the hearer. Hence Milton makes the felf-fame ftrains
of Orpheus proper to excite both the affections of mirth and melan-
choly, jull as the mind is then difpofed. If to mirth, he calls for
fuch mufick,
That Orpheus' felf may heave bis bead
From golden Jlumbers on a bed
Ofheapt ElyfianjJorwers, and hear
Such ftrains as -would have 'won the ear
Of Pluto, to have quite fet free
His half-regain WEurydice. L'allegro.
If to melancholy
Or bid the foul of Orpheus fing
Such notes as warbled to the firing,
Drew iron tears dovon Pluto' j cheek,
And made Hell grant what love aid feek. II penferofo.
3 So full of Jb apes is fancy,
That it alone is HiGH/antaftical.] This complicated nonfenfe
mould be rectified thus,
So full ofjhapes \ N fancy,
That it alone is MIGHT fantajlical,
i. e. love is fo full of mapes infancy, that the name of 'fantajlical is
peculiarly given to it alone.
But,
you ay///. 1 1 9
Cur. Will you go hunt, my Lord ?
D0&. What, Curio?
Cur. The hart.
Duke. Why, To I do, the nobleft that I have:
O, when my Eyes did fee Olivia firft,
Methought, fhe purg'd the air of peftilence ;
That inftant was I turn*d into a hart,
And my defires, like fell and cruel hounds,
E'er fmce purfue me. How now, what news from her ?
Enter Valentine.
Vol. So pleafe my Lord, I might not be admitted,
But from her hand-maid do return this anfwer :
The element itfelf, 'till feven years hence,
Shall not behold her face at ample view ;
But, like a cloyftrefs, fhe will veiled walk,
And water once a day her chamber round
With eye-offending brine : all this to feafon
A brother's dead love, which fhe would keep frefli
And lafting in her fad remembrance.
Duke. O, fhe, that hath a heart of that fine frame*
To pay this debt of love but to a brother,
How will fhe love, when the rich golden fhaft
Hath kill'd the flock of all affeftions elfe
That live in her? when liver, brain, and heart,
4 Three fov'reign thrones, are all fupply'd, and fill'd,
( s O fweet perfection !) with one felf-fame King !
But, for the old nonfenfe, the Oxford Editor gives us his new.
So full tf Jhapes is fancy,
And thou all oer art high fantaftical, Says the Critic.
4 THESE fo<v reign thrones] We fhould read THREE /ov'~
reign thrones. Thii is exa&ly in the manner of Sbakefpear. So,
afterwards, in this play, Thy tongue, thy face, tfy limbs, afiions t
and fpit-it, do give tbee fivefold blazon.
5 HER fweet perfeflions /] We (hould read, and point it thus,
(O fweet perfettion !)
I 4 Away
2O TwELFTH-NlGHT : Or,
Away before me to fweet beds of flowers ;
Love-thoughts lye rich, when canopy'd with bowers,
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
The Street.
Enter Viola, a Captain and Sailors,
Flo. \\ /HAT country, friends, is this ?
W Cap. Illyria, Lady.
Vio. And what fhould I do in Illyria ?
My brother he is in Elyfium.
Perchance, he is not drown'd ; what think you, failors ?
Cap. It is perchance, that you yourfelf were fav'd.
Vio. O my poor brother ! fo, perchance, may he be.
Cap. True, Madam : and to comfort you with
chance,
Allure yourfelf, after our fhip did fplit,
When you, and that poor number fav'd with you*
Hung on our driving boat : I faw your brother,
Moft provident in peril, bind himfelf
(Courage and hope both teaching him .the practice)
To a ftrong maft, that liv'd upon the fea ;
Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back,
J faw him hold acquaintance with the waves,
So long as I could fee.
Vio. For faying fo, there's gold.
Mine own efcape unfoldeth to my hope,
Whereto thy fpeech ferves for authority,
The like of him. Know'ft thou this country ?
Cap. Ay, Madam, well ; for I was bred and born,
Not three hours travel from this very place.
Vio. Who governs here ?
Cap. A noble Duke in nature, as in name.
Vio. What is his name ?
Cap. Orfino.
Vio.
What you 'will. 121
Via. Orfino ! I have heard my father name him :
He was a batchelor then.
Cap. And fo is now, or was fo very late ;
For but a month ago 1 went from hence,
And then 'twas frefh in murmur (as you know,
What Great ones do, the lefs will prattle of)
That he did feek the love of fair Olivia.
Vw. What's me ?
Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a Count,
That dy'd fome twelve months fince, then leaving her
In the protection of his fon, her brother,
Who mortly alfo dy'd , for vvhofe dear love,
They fay, me hath abjur'd the fight
And company of men.
Vio. O, that I ferv'd that lady,
And might not be deliver'd to the world,
'Till I had made mine own occafion mellow
What my eftate is !
Cap. That were hard to compafs ;
Becaufeme will admit no kind offuit,
No, not the Duke's.
Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee, Captain ;
And tho* that nature with a beauteous wall
Doth oft clofe in pollution ; yet of thee,
I will believe, thou haft a mind that fuits
With this thy fair and outward character :
I pr'ythee, and I'll pay thee bounteoufly,
Conceal me what I am, and be my aid
For fuch difguife as, haply, mall become
The form of my intent. I'll ferve this Duke ,
Thou malt prefent me as an eunuch to him,
It may be worth thy pains ; for I can fing,
And fpeak to him in many forts of mufick,
That will allow me very worth his fervice,
What elfe may hap, to time I will commit ;
Only fhape thou thy filence to my wit.
Cap.
122 T W E L F T H - N I G H T : Or,
Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be :
When my tongue blabs, then Jet mine eyes not fee.
Vio. I thank thee ; lead me on. [Exeunt.
SCENE III.
An Apartment in Olivia'* Houfe.
Enter Sir Toby, and Maria.
Sir To. \\7 H A T a plague means my neice, to take
VV the death of her brother thus ? I am
fure, care's an enemy to life.
Mar. By my troth, Sir foby, you muft come in ear-
lier a-nights , your neice, my lady, takes great excep-
tions to your ill hours.
Sir -To. Why, let her except, before excepted.
Afar. Ay, but you muft confine yourfelf within the
modeft limits of order.
Sir To. Confine? I'll confine myfelf no finer than I
am; thefe cloaths are good enough to drink in, and fo
be thefe boots too ; an they be not, let them hang
themfelves in their own ftraps.
Mar. That quaffing and drinking will undo you ;
I heard my lady talk of it yefterday, and of a foolifh
Knight that you brought in one night here, to be her
wooer.
Sir To. Who, Sir Andrew Jgue-cheek ?
Mar. Ay, he.
Sir To. He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria.
Mar. What's that to th f purpofe ?
Sir To. Why, he has three thoufand ducats a year.
Mar. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all thefe du-
cats: he's a very fool and a prodigal.
Sir To. Fie, that you'll fay fo ! he plays o'ch' viol-
degambo, and fpeaks three or four languages word for
word without book, and hath all the good gifts of na-
ture.
Mar.
What you w. , 2 ~
Mar. He hath, indeed, almoft natural ; forbe-
fides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller ; and but
that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the guft he
hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among the prudent,
he would quickly have the gift of a grave.
Sir To. By this hand, they are fcoundrels and fub-
traftors that fay fo of him. Who are they ?
Mar. They that add moreover, he's drunk nightly
in your company.
Sir To. With drinking healths to my neice : I'll
drink to her as long as there's a pafTage in my throat,
and drink in lllyria. He's a coward, and a coyftril,
that will not drink to my neice 'till his brains turn
o'th' toe like a parifh-top. What, wench ? 6 Cajlilia*
no Volto 5 for here comes Sir Andrew Ague-cheek.
SCENE IV.
Enter Sir Andrew.
Sir And. Sir Toby Belch ! how now, Sir Toby Belch ? .
Sir To. Sweet Sir Andrew !
Sir And. Blefs you, fair fhrew.
Mar. And you too, Sir.
Sir To. Accoft, Sir Andrew^ accoft. -
Sir And. What's that?
Sir To. My neice's chamber-maid.
Sir And. Good miftrefs Accoft 9 I defire better ac-
quaintance.
Mar. My name is Mary, Sir.
Sir And. Good miftrefs Mary Accoft y
6 Caftiliano vulgo ;] We fhould read volto. In Engli/b, put on
your Caftilian countenance; that is, your grave, folemn looks.
The Oxford Editor has taken my emendation : But, by Caflilian
countenance, he fuppofes is meant moft civil and courtly looks. It
is plain, he underftands gravity and formality to be civility and
courtlincfs.
Sir
TwELFTH-NlGHT : Or,
Sir To. You miftake, Knight : accoft, is, front her,
board her, wooe her, affail her.
Sir And. By my troth, I would not undertake her in
this company. Is that the meaning of accoft ?
Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen.
Sir To. An thou let her part fo, Sir Andrew^ would
thou might'ft never draw fword again.
Sir And. An you part fo, miftrefs, I would I
might never draw fword again. Fair lady, do you
think, you have fools in hand ?
Mar. Sir, I have not you by th' hand.
Sir And. Marry, but you mail have, and here's my
hand.
Mar. Now, Sir, thought is free: I pray you, bring
your hand to th* buttery-bar, and let it drink.
Sir And. Wherefore, fweet heart ? what's your me-
taphor ?
Mar. It's dry, Sir.
Sir And. Why, I think fo : I am not fuch an afs,
but I can keep my hand dry. But what*s your jeft ?
Mar. A dry jeft, Sir.
Sir And. Are you full of them ?
Mar. Ay, Sir, I have them at my finger's ends :
marry, now I let your hand go, I am barren.
[Exit Maria.
Sir To. O Knight, thou lack'ft a cup of canary :
when did I fee thee fo put down ?
Sir And. Never in your life, I think, unlefs you fee
canary put me down : methinks, fometimes I have no
more wit than a chriftian, or an ordinary man has ;
but I am a great eater of beef, and, I believe, that does
harm to my wit.
Sir To. No queftion.
Sir And. An I thought that, I'd forfwear it. I'll
ride home to-morrow, Sir Toby,
Sir To. Pourquoy* my dear Knight.
Sir
What you 'will. 125
Sir And. What is pourquoy ? do, or not do ? I
would, I had beftowed that time in the tongues that I
have in fencing, dancing, and bear-baiting. O, had
I but follow'd the arts !
Sir To. Then hadft thou had an axcellent head of
hair.
Sir And. Why, would that have mended my hair?
Sir To. Pad queflion 5 for 7 thou feeft, it will not
curl by nature.
Sir And. But it becomes me well enough, does'c
not ?
Sir To. Excellent ! it hangs like flax on a diftaff";
and I hope to fee a houfe-wife take thee between her
legs, and fpin it off.
Sir And. Faith, I'll home to-morrow, Sir Toby ;
your neice will not be feen, or, if fhe be, it's four to
one fhe'll none of me : the Duke himfelf here, hard
by, wooes her.
Sir To. She'll none o'th* Duke, (he'll not match
above her degree, neither in eftate, years, nor wic j I
have heard her fwear it. Tut, there's life in't, man.
Sir And. I'll (lay a month longer. I am a fellow o'
th* ftrangeft mind i'th' world : I delight in masks and
revels fometimes altogether.
Sir To. Art thou good atthefe kick-fhaws, Knight ?
Sir And. As any man in Illyria, whatfoever he be,
under the degree of my betters ; 8 and yet I will not
compare with an old man.
Sir To. What is thy excellence in agalliard, Knight?
Sir And. Faith, I can cut a^ caper.
Sir To. And I can cut the mutton to't.
7 tboufeeft, it 'will not c o o L MY nature."} We fhould read, it
mill not cunt BY nature. The joke is evident.
8 andytt I will not compare with an old man.] This is intended
as a fatire on that common vanity of old men, in preferring their
own times, and the paft generation, to the prefent.
Sir
26 TWELPTH-NlGHT: Or,
Sir And. And, I think, I have the back- trick, (im-
ply as ftrong as any man in Illyna.
Sir To. Wherefore are thefe things hid ? wherefore
have thefe gifts a curtain before them ? are they like
to take duft, like miftrefs MalPs picture ? why doft
thou not go to church in a galliard, and come home
in a coranto ? my very walk mould be a jig ! I would
not fo much as make water, but in a fink-a-pace :
what doft thou mean ? is it a world to hide virtues in ?
I did think, by the excellent conftitution of thy leg, it
was form'd under the ftar of a galliard.
Sir And. Ay, 'tis ftrong, and it does indifferent
well in flame-colour'd flocking. Shall we fet about
fome revels ?
Sir To. What mall we do elfe ? were we not born
under Taurus ?
Sir And. Taurus ? that's fides and heart.
Sir To. No, Sir, it is legs and thighs. Let me fee
thee caper j ha! higher: ha, ha!- -excellent.
[Exeunt.
SCENE V.
Changes fo the Palace.
Enter Valentine, and Viola in man's attire.
Val. T F the Duke continue thefe favours towards you,
1 Cefario, you are like to be much advanc'd ;
he hath known you but three days, and already, you
are no ftranger.
Vio. You either fear his humour, or my negligence,
that you call in queftion the continuance of his love.
Is he inconftant, Sir, in his favours ?
Val. No, believe me.
Enter Duke, Curio, and Attendants.
Fio. I thank you : here comes the Duke.
Duke. Who faw Cefario, hoa ?
Vio.
What you will. 127
Vio. On your attendance, my Lord, here.
Duke. Stand you a-while aloof. Cefario,
Thou know'ft no lefs, but all : I have unclafp'd
To thee the book even of my fecret foul.
Therefore, good youth, addrefs thy gate unto her 5
Be not deny'd accefs, ftand at her doors,
And tell them, there thy fixed foot (hall grow,
'Till thou have audience.
Vio. Sure, my noble Lord,
If fhe be fo abandon'd to her forrow
As it is fpoke, fhe never will admit me.
Duke. Be clamorous, and Jeap all civil bounds,
Rather than make unprofited return.
Vio. Say, I do fpeak with her, my Lord ; what then?
Duke. O, then, unfold the paffion of my love,
Surprize her with difcourfe of my dear faith ,
It (hall become thee well to act my woes ;
She will attend it better in thy youth,
Than in a Nuncio of more grave afpect.
Vio. I think not fo, my Lord.
Duke. Dear lad, believe it :
For they fhall yet belie thy happy years,
That fay, thou art a man : Diana's lip
Is not more fmooth and rubious ; thy fmall pipe
Is as the maiden's organ, fhrill, and found,
And all is femblative a woman's part.
I know, thy Conftellation is right apt
For this affair : fome four or five attend him ;
All, if you will j for I my felf am beft
When leaft in company. Profper well in this,
And thou fhalt live as freely as thy Lord,
To call his fortunes thine.
Vw. I'll do my beft
To woo your Lady ; yet, a barrful ftrife !
Who-e'er I woo, my felf would be his wife. [Exeunt.
SCENE
28 Tw E LFT H-Nl GH T : Or,
SCENE VI.
Changes to Olivia'.* Houfe.
Enter Maria and Clown.
Mar. ^T A Y, either tell me where thou haft been,
JJN or I will not open my lips fo wide as a
bridle may enter, in way of thy excufe ; my Lady
will hang thee for thy abfence.
Clo. Let her hang me ; he, that is well hang'd in
this world, needs fear no colours.
Mar. Make That good.
Clo. He mall fee none to fear.
Mar. A good lenten anfwer : I can tell thee where
that faying was born, of, I fear no colours.
Clo. Where, good miftrefs Mary ?
Mar. In the wars ; and that may you be bold to fay
in you foolery.
Clo. Well, God give them wifdom that have it ; and
thofe that are fools, let them ufe their talents.
Mar. Yet you will be hang'd for being fo long ab-
fent, or be turn'd away ; is not that as good as a
hanging to you ?
Clo. Marry, a good hanging prevents a bad mar-
riage ; and for turning away, let fummer bear it out,
Mar. You are refolute then ?
Clo. Not fo neither, but I am refolv'd on two
points.
Mar. That if one break, the other will hold; or,
if Both break, your gaskins fall.
Clo. Apr, in good faith ; very apt : well, go thy
way, if Sir foby would leave drinking, thou wert as
witty a piece of Era's flefh as any in Illyria.
Mar. Peace, you rogue, no more o* that ; here
comes my Lady ; make your excufe wifely, you were
beft. [Exit.
SCENE
What you <iwV/. i 2 9
SCENE VII.
Olivia, and Malvolio.
Clo. Wit, and't be thy will, put me into a good
fooling ! thofe wits, that think they have thee, do
very oft prove fools ; and I, that am fure I Jack
thee, may pafs for a wife man. For what fays fui-
napalus. Better be a witty fool thanafoolifh wit. God
blefs thee, Lady !
Oli. Take the fool away.
Clo. Do you not hear, fellows ? take away the Lady.
Oli. Go to, y'are a dry fool i I'll no more of you 5
befidcs, you grow dilhoneft.
Clo. Two faults, Madona, that drink and good
counfel will amend ; for give the dry fool drink, then
is the fool not dry : Bid the difhoneft man mend him-
felf j if he mend, he is no longer difhoneft ; if he can-
not, let the botcher mend him. Any thing, that's
mended, is but patch'd ; virtue, that tranfgrefles, is
but patch'd with fin ; and fin, that amends, is but
patch'd with virtue. If that this fimple fyllogifm will
ferve, fo , if it will not, what remedy ? as there is no
true cuckold but calamity, fo beauty's a flower : the
Lady bad take away the fool, therefore, I fay again,
take her away.
Oli. Sir, I bad them take away you.
Clo. Milprifion in the higheft degree. Lady, Cu-
fullus nonfacit monachum ; that's as much as to fay, I
wear not motley in my brain : good Madcna, give me
leave to prove you a fool.
Oli. Can you do it ?
Clo. Dexteroufly, good Madona.
Oli. Make your proof.
Clo. I muft catechize you for it, Madona ; good my
moufe of virtue, anfwer me.
jtti. Well, Sir, for want of other idlenefs, I'll bide
your proof.
VOL. III. K do.
130 TwELFTH-NlG HT: Or,
Clo. Good Madona, why mourn'ft thou ?
OIL Good fool, for my brother's death.
Clo. I think, his foul is in hell, Madona.
Oil. I know, his foul is in heav'n, fool.
Clo. The more fool you, Madona^ to mourn for
your brother's foul being in heav'n : take away the
fool, Gentlemen.
Oli. What think you of this fool, MalvoKo 9 doth
he not mend ?
Mai. Yes, and {hall do, 'till the pangs of death
fhake him. Infirmity, that decays the wife, doth ever
make better the fool.
Clo. God fend you, Sir, a fpeedy infirmity, for the
better increafing your folly ! Sir Toby will be fworn,
that I am no fox 5 but he will not pafs his word for
two pence, that you are no fool.
Oli. How fay you to that, Malvolio ?
Mai. I marvel, your Ladyfhip takes delight in fuch
a barren rafcal ; I faw him put down the other day
with an ordinary fool, that has no more brain than a
{lone. Look you now, he's out of his guard already ;
unlefs you laugh and minifter occafion to him, he is
gagg'd. 1 proteft, I take thefe wife men, that crow
fo at thefe fet kind of fools, no better than the fools'
Zanies.
Oli. O, you are fick of felf-love, Maholio, and tafte
with a diftemper'd appetite. To be generous, guiltlefs,
and of free difpofition, is to take thofe things for bird-
bolts that you deem cannon-bullets : there is no flander
In an allow'd fool, though he do nothing but rail i nor
no railing in a known difcreet man, though he do no-
thing but reprove.
Clo. 9 Now Mercury indue thee with pleafing, for
thou fpeak'ft well of fools !
Entft
9 Now Mercury indue tbee 'with LE A s I N c,for thoufpeak''JI tvftt
of fools /] This is a ftupid blunder. We fliould read, 'with PLEAS-
ING, i.e. with eloquence, make thee a gracious and powerful
fpeaker,
What you ivilL
Enter Maria.
Mar. Madam, there is at the gate a young Gentle-
man, much defires to fpeak with you.
Oli. From the Count Orfino, is it ?
Mar. I know not, Madam, 'tis a fair young Man,
and well attended.
OK. Who of my people hold him in delay?
Mar. Sir Toby? Madam, your Uncle.
Oli. Fetch him off, I pray you, he fpeaks nothing
but madman: fie on him! Go you, Malvolio; if it
be a fuit from the Count, I am fick, or not at home:
What you will, to difmifs it. [Exit Malvolio ] Now
you lee, Sir, how your fooling grows old, and people
diflike it.
Clo. Thou haft fpoke for us, Madona, as if thy
elded Son mould be a fool : whofe fcull Jove cram
with brains, for here comes one of thy Kin has a
moft weak Pia Mater !
SCENE VIII.
Enter Sir Toby.
OR. By mine honour, half drunk. What is he at
the gate, Uncle?
Sir To. A Gentleman.
Oli. A Gentleman ? what Gentleman ?
fpeaker, for Mercury was the God of orators as well as cheats. But
the firft Editors, who did not tmderitand the phrafe, indue tbte
with pleafing, made this fool ifh corre&ion ; more excufable, how-
ever, than the laft Editor's, who, when this emendation was pointed
out to him, would make one of his own; and fo in his Oxford
edition, reads, with LEARNING ; without troubling himfelf to fa-
tisfy the reader how the firft editor (hould blunder in a word fo
eafy to be underllood as learning tho' they well might in the word
pleaftngy as it is ufed in this place,
K 2 Sir
132 TWELITH-NlGHT: Or,
Sir 70. * 'Tis a Gentleman-heir, A plague o 9
thefe pickle herring! how now, for?
Clo. Good Sir Toby,
Oli. Uncle, Uncle, how have you come fo early
by this lethargy ?
Sir To. Letchery ! I defie letchery : there's one at
the gate.
Oli. Ay, marry, what is he?
Sir fo. Let him be the devil and he will, I care
not : give me faith, fay I. Well, it's all one. [Exit.
Oli. What's a drunken man like, fool ?
do. Like a drown'd man, a fool, and a madman :
one draught above heat makes him a fool ; the fecond
mads him ; and a third drowns him.
Oli. Go thou and feek the Coroner, and let him fit
o' my Uncle ; for he's in the third degree of drink ;
he's drown'd ; go, look after him.
Go. He is but mad yet, Madona, and the fool mail
look to the madman. [Exit Clown.
Enter Malvolio:
Mai Madam, yond young Fellow fwears he will
fpeak with you. I told him, you were fick ; he takes
on him to underftand fo much, and therefore comes
to fpeak with you. I told him you were afleep - 9 he
feems to have a fore-knowledge of that too, and there-
fore comes to fpeak with you. What is to be faid to
him, Lady ? he's fortified againft any denial.
Oli. Tell him, he (hall not fpeak with me.
l Tit a gentleman. HERE, ] He had before faid it was a
gentleman. He was asked what gentleman ? and he makes this
reply ; which, it is plain, is corrupt, and fhould be read thus,
"/?/ a Gentleman-^. E i R,
i. e. fome lady's eldeft fonjuft come out of the nurfery; for this
was the appearance Viola made in mens clothes. See the character
io draws of him prefently after.
Mai.
What yon will. 133
Mai. He has been told fo ; and he fays, he 1 JJ "* Hand
at your door like a Sheriff's poft, and be the fup-
porter to a bench, but he'll fpeak with you.
OK. What kind o'man is he ?
Mai. Why, of mankind.
Oli. What manner of man ?
Mai. Of very ill manners i he'll fpeak with you,
will you or no.
Oil. Of what perfonage and years is he ?
Mai. Not yet old enough for a man, nor young
enough for a boy , as a fquafii is before 'tis a peafcod,
or a codling when 'tis almoft an apple : 'tis with him
in ftanding water, between boy and man. He is very
well-favour'd, and he fpeaks very fhrewifhly ; one
would think, his mother's milk were fcarce out of
him.
Oli. Let him approach : call in my Gentlewoman.
Mai. Gentlewoman, rny Lady calls. [Exit.
SCENE IX.
Enter Maria.
OIL Give me my veil : come, throw k o'er my face i
We'll once more hear Orfmo's embafTy.
Enter Viola.
Vw. The honourable Lady of the houfe, which
is me ?
2 jland at your door like a Sheriff*! poft,~\ It was the cuftom for
that officer to have large pofts fet up at his door, as an indication of
his office. The original of which was, that the King's procla-
mations, and other publick ads, might be affixed thereon by way
of publication. So Jobnfon* Every man out of bis humour)
put off
To the Lord Chancellor's tomb, or the Shrives pofts.
So again in the old play called Lingua,
Knows he how to become a fear let gown, bath he a fair offrt/h
pofts at his door ?
K 3 Oli a
34 TWE LfTH-NiG HT: O,
OH. Speak to me, I fhall anfwer for her: your
will?
yio. Moft radiant, exquifite, and unmatchable
Beauty I pray you, tell me, if this be the Lady
of the houfe, for I never faw her. I would be loth
to caft away my fpeech; for, befides that it is excel-
lently well penn'd, I have taken great pains to con it.
Good Beauties, let me fuftain no fcorn ; 3 1 am very
comptible, even to the leaft finifter ufage.
Oil. Whence came you, Sir?
Vio. I can fay little more than I have ftudied, and
that Queflion's out of my Part. Good gentle One,
give me modeft afiurance, if you be the Lady of the
houfe, that I may proceed in my fpeech.
Oil. Are you a Comedian ?
Flo. No, my profound heart ; and yet, by the very
fangs of malice, I fwear, 1 am not that I play. Are
you the Lady of the houfe ?
Oli. If I do not ufurp myfelf, I am.
Vio. Moft certain, if you are me, you do ufurp
yourfelf ; for what is yours to beftow, is not yours to
referve ; but this is from my Commiflion. I will on
with my fpeech in your praife, and then mew you the
heart of my meffage.
OIL Come to what is important in't : I forgive you
the praife.
Vio. Alas, I took great pains to fludy it, and 'tis
poetical.
Oli. It is the more like to be feign'd. I pray you,
keep it in. I heard you were fawcy at my gates j and
I allow'd your approach, rather to wonder at you than
to hear you. If you be not mad, be gone ; if you
have reafon, be brief: 'tis not that time of the moon
with me, to make one in ib skipping a dialogue.
Mar. Will you hoift fail, Sir, here lies your way.
; / a-i viry comptibie, ] Comptiblf for ready to call to account.
Vio.
What you ay///.
Vio. No, good fwabber, I am to hull here a little
longer. Some mollification for your Giant, fweet
Lady.
4 Oli Tell me your mind.
Vio. I am a mefTenger.
Oli. Sure, you have fome hideous matter to deliver,
when the courtefie of it is fo fearful. Speak your
office.
Vio. It alone concerns your ear. I bring no over-
ture of war, no taxation of homage; I hold the
olive in my hand : my words are as full of peace as
matter.
OH. Yet you began rudely. What are you ? what
would you ?
Vio. The rudenefs, that hath appear'd in me, have
I learn'd from my entertainment. What I am, and
what I would, are as fecret as maiden-head ; to your
ears, divinity ; to any other's, prophanation.
Oli. Give us the place alone. [Exit Maria.] We
will hear this divinity. Now, Sir, what is your text ?
Vio. Moft fweet Lady,
Oli. A comfortable doctrine, and much may be
faid of it. Where lies your text ?
Vio. In Orjino's bofom.
Oli. In his bofom ? in what chapter of his bofom ?
Vio. To anfwer by the method, in the firft of his
heart.
Oli. O, I have read it ; it is herefie. Have you
no more to fay ?
4 Vio. tell me your mind, I am a me/enger.~\ Thefc words
muft be divided between the two fpeakers thus,
Oli. Tell me your mind
Vio. 1 am a mejfenger.
Viola growing troublelume, Olivia would difmifs her, and therefore
cuts her {hort with this command. Tell me your mind The other
taking advantage of the ambiguity of tlie word mind which fig-
nifies either bufinefs or inclinations, replies as if fheliad ufed it in
the latter fenfe, / am a mejfenger.
K 4 Vie.
136 TWE LFTH-NlGHT : Or,
Vio. Good Madam, let me fee your face.
OH. Have you any commiffion from your Lord to
negotiate with my face ? you are now out of your
text , but we will draw the curtain, and fhew you the
picture. s Look you, Sir, fuch a one I wear this pre-
fent : is't not well done? [Unveiling.
Via. Excellently done, if God did all.
OIL 'Tis in grain, Sir; 'twill endure wind and
weather.
Vio. J Tis Beauty truly blent, whofe red and white
Nature's own fweet and cunning hand laid on :
Lady, you are the cruell'ft She alive,
If you will lead thefe graces to the Grave,
And leave the world no copy.
OH. O, Sir, I will not be fo hard-hearted : I will
give out diverfe fchedules of my beauty. It fhall be
inventoried, and every particle and utenfil label I'd to
my wjll. As, Item, two lips indifferent red. Item,
two gray eyes, with lids to them. Item, one neck,
one chin, and fo forth. Were you fent hither to praifc
me?
Vio. I fee you, what you are ; you are too proud ;
But if you were the Devil, you are fair.
My Lord and Matter loves you : O, fuch Jove
Could be but recompens'd, tho' you were crown'd
The Non-pareil of Beauty !
OIL How does he Jove me ?
Vie. With adorations, with fertile tears,
5 Leak you, Sir, fab a one I was this prcfent : iit not well 4me ?]
This is nonfenfe ; we fhould read I wear: The correlion, J think,
clears all up, and gives the exprefllon an Air of Gallantry. Viola
prcfles to fee Olivia 's face ; the other at length pull-, off her veil,
and fays, nue will draw the curtain andfoewyou the pi 1 lire. I wear
this complexion to-day, I may wear another to-morrow; jocularly
intimating, that (he fainted. The other, yext at the jeft, fays,
Excellently done, if God did all. Perhaps it irry be true what you
iay in jeit, otherwife 'tis an excellent face. T/J ingrain, &c. re-
plies Olivia.
With
Wloat you
With groans that thunder love, with fighs of fire.
Oli. Your Lord does know my mind, I cannot
love him ;
Yet I fuppofe him virtuous, know him noble,
Of great eftate, of frefh and ftainlefs youth ;
In voices well divulg'd ; free, Jearn'd, and valiant ;
And in dimenfion, and the fhape of nature,
A gracious perfon ; but yet I cannot love him :
He might have took his anfwer long ago.
Vio. If I did love you in my mailer's flame,
With fuch a fuff'ring, fuch a deadly life,
In your denial I would find no fenfe:
I would not underftand it.
Oli. Why, what would you do ?
Vio. Make me a willow cabin at your gate,
And call upon my foul within the houfe ;
Write loyal canto's of contemned love,
And fing them loud even in the dead of night:
Hollow your name to the reverberate hills,
And make the babling goflip of the air
Cry out, Olivia ! O, you mould not reft
Between the elements of air and earth,
But you mould pity me.
Oli. You might do much :
What is your parentage ?
Vio. Above my fortunes, yet my ftate is well ;
I am a gentleman.
Oli. Get you to your Lord ;
I cannot love him : let him fend no more ;
Unlefs, perchance, you come to me again,
To tell me how he takes it j fare you well :
1 thank you for your pains ; fpend this for me.
Vio. I am no fee'd poft, lady ; keep your purfc:
My mafter, not myfelf, lacks recompence.
Love make his heart of flint, that you fhall love,
And let your fervour, like my matter's, be
in contempt! farewel, fair cruelty. [Exit.
Oli.
TWELFTH-NIGHT: Or,
Oli. What is your parentage ,
Above my fortunes^ yet myjtate is well:
I am a gentleman I'll be fworn thou art.
Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and fpirit,
Do give thee five-fold blazon not too faft foft!
foft!
Unlefs the mafter were the man. - How now ?
Even fo quickly may one catch the plague ?
Methinks, I feel this youth's perfections,
"With an invifible and fubtile ftealth,
To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be
What ho, Malvolio,
Enter Malvolio.
Mai Here, Madam, at your fervice.
OH. Run after that fame peevifh meffenger,
The Duke's man ; he left this ring behind him,
Would I, or not : tell him, I'll none of it.
Defire him not to flatter with his Lord,
Nor hold him up with hopes ; I am not for him :
If that the youth will come this way to-morrow,
I'll give him reafons for't. Hye thee, Malvolio.
Mai. Madam, I will. [Exit.
Oli. I do, I know not what ; and fear to find
Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind :
Fate, fhew thy force ; ourfelves we do not owe ;
What is decreed, muft be i and be this fo ! [Exit.
ACT
What you iy/7/.
A C T II. SCENE I.
The STREET.
Enter Antonio and Sebaftian.
ANTONIO.
WILL you ftay no longer ? nor will you not,
that I go with you ?
Seb. By your patience, no : my ftars fhine darkly
over me } the malignancy of my fate might, perhaps,
diftemper yours; therefore I mall crave of you your
leave, that I may bear my evils alone. It were a bad
recompence for your love, to Jay any of them on
you.
Ant. Let me yet know of you, whither you are
bound.
Seb. No, footh, Sir ; my determinate voyage is
meer extravagancy : but I perceive in you fo excellent
a touch of modefty, that you will not extort from
me what I am willing to keep in ; therefore it charges
me in manners the rather to exprefs myfelf : you muft
know of me then, Antonio^ my name is Sebaftian;
which I call'd Rodongo ; my father was that Sebajiian
of Meffaline, whom, I know, you have heard of. He
left behind him, myfelf, and a fifter, both born in
one hour ; if the heav'ns had been pleas'd, would we
had fo ended ! but you, Sir, alter'd that ; for, fome
hour before you took me from the breach of the fea,
was my fitter drown'd.
Ant. Alas, the day!
Seb. A Lady, Sir, tho' it was faid me much re-
fembled me, was yet of many accounted beaurifui ; but
tho' I could not ' [with fuch eftimable wonder] over-
fjYtmable ivondtr'] An interpolation of the pia>er-.
far
40 TWELPTH-NIG HT: Or,
far believe that, yet thus far I will boldly publifh her,
{he bore a mind that envy could not but call fair :
(he is drown'd already, Sir, with fait water, tho* I
feem to drown her remembrance again with more.
Ant. Pardon me, Sir, your bad entertainment.
Seb. O good Antonio, forgive me your trouble.
Ant. If you will not murther me for my love, let
me be your fervant.
Seb. If you will not undo what you have done,
that is, kill him whom you have recover'd, defire it
not. Fare ye well at once ; my bofom is full of
kindnefs, and I am yet fo near the manners of my
mother, that upon the lead occafion more, mine eyes
will tell tales of me: I am bound to the Duke Or-
fine's court j farewel. [Exit.
Ant. The gentlenefs of all the Gods go with thee !
I have made enemies in Orfino's court,
Elfe would I very fhortly fee thee there :
But come what may, I do adore thee fo,
The danger {hall feem fport, and I will go. [Exit*
SCENE II.
Enter Viola and Malvolio, at feveral doors.
Mai. Were not you e'en now with the Countels
Olivia ?
Vio. Even now, Sir; on a moderate pace I have
fince arrived but hither.
Mai. She returns this ring to you, Sir; you might
have faved me my pains, to have taken it away your
felf. She adds moreover, that you fhould put your
Lord into a defperate Afiurance, fhe will none of
him. And one thing more, that you be never fo
hardy to come again in his affairs, unlefs it be to re-
port your Lord's taking of this: receive it fo.
Vio. She took the ring of me, I'll -none of it.
Mai
What you iy/7/. i 4 1
Mai. Come, Sir, you peevifhly threw it to her,
and her will is, it mould be fo return'd: if it be
worth (looping for, there it lyes in your eye; if not,
be it his that finds it. [Exit.
Pio. I left no ring with her ; what means this Lady ?
Fortune forbid, my outfide have not charm'd her!
She made good view of me ; indeed, fo much,
That, fure, methought * her eyes had croft her tongue *
For me did fpeak in ftarts diftraftedly :
She loves me, fure ; the cunning of her paflion
Invites me in this churl ifii meflenger.
None of my Lord's ring ; why, he fent her none.
I am the man If it be fo, (as, 'tis;)
Poor Lady, fhe were better love a dream.
Difguife, I fee, thou art a wickednefs,
Whererein the pregnant enemy does much.
How eafie is it, for the proper falfe
In women's waxen hearts to fet their forms !
Alas, our frailty is the caufe, not we,
For fuch as we are made, if fuch we be.
How will this fadge ? my mafter loves her dearly,
And I, poor monftcr, fond as much on him i
And me, miftaken, feems to dote on me.
What will become of this ? as I am man,
My ftate is defperate for my matter's love ;
As I am woman, (now, alas the day !)
What thrifclefs fighs mail poor Olivia breathe ?
O time, thou muft untangle this, not I ;
It is too hard a knot for me t' unty. [Exit.
2 her iyes bad LOST her tongue ;] This is nonfcnfe :
we (hould read,
her eyes bad CROST her tongue}
Alluding to the notion of the fafcination of the eyes ; the effe&s of
which were called
SCENE
142 TWELFTH-NIGHT: Or,
SCENE III.
Changes to Olivia'* Houfe.
Enter Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew.
Sir To. A Pproach, Sir Andrew : not to be a-bed af-
/ll ter midnight, is to be up betimes ; and
Diluculo furgere, thou know'll,
Sir And. Nay, by my troth, I know not : but I
know, to be up late, is to be up late.
Sir 7*0. A falfe conclusion : I hate it, as an unfilPd
can ; to be up after midnight, and to go to bed then,
is early ; fo that to go to bed after midnight, is to go
bed betimes. Does not our life confift of the four ele-
ments ?
Sir And. 'Faith, fo they fay; but, 3 1 think, it rjt-
ther confifts of eating and drinking.
Sir To. Th'art a fcholar, let us therefore eat and
drink. Maria ! I fay ! a floop of wine.
Enter Clown.
Sir And. Here comes the fool, i'faith.
Clo. How now, my hearts ? did you never fee the
picture of we three ?
Sir To. Welcome, afs, now let's have a catch.
Sir And. By my troth, the fool has an excellent breaft.
I had rather than forty millings I had fuch a leg, and
fo fweet a breath to fing, as the fool has. In footh, thou
waft in very gracious fooling lafr night, when thou
fpok'ft of PigrogromitttS) of the Vapiam paffing the
iquinoctial of Queubus : 'twas very good, i'faith: I
fcnt thee fix-pence for thy Lemon, hadft it?
3 I think, it rather conjijls of eating and drinking.] A ridicule
on the medical theory of that time, which fuppofed health to con-
fiit in the juft temperament and balance of thefe elements in the
human frame.
do.
What you will.
Clo. I did impeticos thy gratillity ; for Maholio's
nofe is no whip-dock. My Lady has a white hand,
and the Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houfes.
Sir And. Excellent : why, this is the beft fooling,
when all is done. Now, a Song.
Sir To. Come on, there's Six-pence for you. Let's
have a Song.
Sir And. There's a teftril of me too ; if one Knight
give a
Clo. Would you have a Love-fong, or a Song of
good life ?
Sir To. A Love-fong, a Love-fong:
Sir And. Ay, ay, I care not for good life.
Clown fings.
O miftrefs mine, where are you roaming ?
O flay and bear, your true love's coming^
That can fing both high and low.
Trip no further, pretty fweeting ;
'Journeys end in lovers' meeting,
Every wife man's fon doth know.
Sir And. Excellent good, i'faith !
Sir To. Good, good.
Clo. What is love ? 'tis not hereafter :
Prefent mirth hath prefent laughter :
What's to come, is flill unfure ;
* In decay there lyes no plenty :
Then come kifs me, fweet, and twenty :
Touth's a fluff will not endure.
Sir And. A mellifluous voice, as lam a true Knight.
Sir To. A contagious breath.
Sir And. Very fweet and contagious, i'faith.
4 In delay there lies no plenty :"] This is a proverbial faying
corrupted ; and (hould be read thus,
In DECAY there lies no plenty.
A reproof of avarice, which (lores up periftiable fruits till they de-
cay. To thefe fruits the Poet, humoroufly, compares youth or
"irginityj which, he fays, is ijluffwill not endure,
Sir
144 TWELFTH -NIGHT": Of,
Sir To. To hear by the nofe, it is dulcet in conta-
gion. But fhall we make the welkin dance* indeed ?
Shall we rouze the night-owl in a catch, that will
5 draw three fouls out of one weaver ? lhall we do
that?
Sir And. An you love me, let's do f t : I am a dog
at a catch.
Clo. By'r Lady, Sir, and fome dogs will catch well.
Sir And. Moft certain ? let our catch be, fbou knave.
Clo. Hold thy peace, thou knave, Knight. I (hall be
conftrain'd in't, to call thee knave, Knight.
Sir And. 'Tis not the firft time I have conftrain'd
one to call me knave. Begin, fool ; it begins, Hold
thy peace.
Clo. I (hall never begin, if I hold my peace.
Sir And. Good, i'faich: come, begin.
[Iheyfmg a catch.
5 dranu three fouls out of one weaver ?] Our Author reprefenta
weavers as much given to harmony in his time, I have ftiewn the
caufeof itelfewhere. This expreffion of the power of mufick, is
familiar with our Author. Much ado about nothing. Now it it
foul ravi/hed. Is it not jlrange that Sheep 's-guti Jhould hale fouls out
of men s bodies? Why, he fays, three fouls , is, becaufe he is fpeak-
ing of a catch in three parts. And the peripatetic philofophy, then
in vogue, very liberally gave every man three fouls. Thewgttative
or plajiic, the animal, and the rational. To this, too, Johnfon
alludes, in his Poetajier ; What, tuill I turnjharke upon my friends ?
or my friends friends ? I fcorn it 'with with my three fouls. By the
mention of thefe three, therefore, we may fuppofe it was Shake-
fpear 1 ^ purpofe, to hint to us thofe furprifing effects of mufick,
yvhich the antients fpeak of. When they tell us of Amphion, who
moved ftones and trees ; Orpheus and Arion, who tamed favage
beajls, andTimotbeus, who governed, as he pleafed, ihepaftons of
his human auditors. So noble an obfervation has our Author con-
in the ribaldry of this buffoon charafter.
SCENE
you iy/7/.
SCENE IV.
Enter Maria.
Mar. What a catterwauling do you keep here? if
my Lady have not call'd up her fteward, Malvolio,
and bid him turn you out of doors, never truft me.
Sir *To. My Lady's a Catayan^ we are politicians,
Maholio*sa.Ptf-a-Ramfy, and Three merry men be we.
Am not I confanguinious? am I not of her blood ?
filly valley^ LadyJ there dwelt a man in Babylon, La-
dy y Lady. [Singing.
Clo. Befhrew me, the Knight's in admirable fooling.
Sir And. Ay, he does well enough if he be difpos'd,
and fo do I too : he does it with a better grace, but I
do it more natural.
Sir 20. O, the twelfth day 0/December, [Singing.
Mar. For the love o'God, peace.
Enter Malvolio.
Mai. My matters, are you mad ? or what are you ?
have you no wit, manners, nor honefty, but to gabble
like tinkers at this time of night ? do ye make an ale-
houfe of my Lady's houfe, that ye fqueak out your
6 cottiers catches without any mitigation or remorfe of
voice ? is there no refpect of place, perfons, nor time
in you ?
Sir To. We did keep time, Sir, in our catches. Sneck
up ! [Hiccoughs.
Mai. Sir Toby, I muit be round with you. My La-
dy bade me tell you, that tho' fhe harbours you as her
Uncle, flic's nothing ally'd to your diforders. If you
can feparate your felf and your mifdemeanors, you are
welcome to the Houfe : if not, an it would pleafe you
6 coziers catches] Cottiers. Ruftick, clownifli.
VOL. III. L to
I4 6 TWELFTH-NIGHT: Or,
to take leave of her, me is very willing to bid yoii
farewell
Sir To. Farewell dear hearty fince I muffi needs "be
gone.
Mai. Nay, good Sir Toby.
do. His eyes do Jhew^ Us days are almoft done.
Mai. Is't even fo ?
Sir To. But I will never die.
Clo. Sir Toby, there you lie.
Mai. This is much credit to you.
Sir To. Shall I bid him go ? [Singing*
Clo. What, an if you do ?
Sir To. Shall 1 bid him go y and fpare not ?
Clo. O no, no, no, you dare not.
Sir To. Out o'time, Sir, ye lie : art thou any more
than a fteward ? doft thou think, becaufc thou art vir-
tuous, there mall be no more cakes and ale ?
Clo. Yes, by Saint Anne ; and ginger fliall be hot
i'th' mouth too.
Sir To. Thou'rt i'th' right. Go, Sir, rub your
chain with crums. A {loop of wine, Maria.
Mai. Miftrefs Mary, if you priz'd my Lady's fa-
vour at any thing more than contempt, you would not
give means for this uncivil rule ; fhe mall know of it,
by this hand. [Exit.
Mar. Go make your ears.
Sir And. 'Twere as good a deed as to drink when a
man's a hungry, to challenge him to the field, and
then to break promife with him, and make a fool
of him.
Sir To. Do't, Knight, I'll write thee a challenge: or
I'll deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth,
Mar. Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for to night ; fince
the youth of the Duke's was to day with my Lady,
fhe is much out of quiet. For Monfieur Maholw, let
me alone with him : if I do not gull him into a nay-
word, and make him a common recreation, do not
think,
you iw7/
think, I have wit enough to lie flraight in my bed :
I know, I can do it 4
Sir To. Poffefs us, pofTefs us, tell us fomcihing of
him.
Mar. Marry ;, Sir, fometimes he is a kind of a Pu-
ritan.
Sir And. O, if I thought that* Pd beat him like a
dog.
Sir To. What, for being a Puritan ? thy exquifite
reafon, dear Knight.
Sir And. I have no exquifite reafon for't, but I have
reafon good enough.
Mar. The devil a Puritan that he is, or any thing
conftantly but a time-pleafer ; 7 an affection'd als, that
cons Mate without book, and utters it by great fwaths :
the bed perfuaded of himfelf : fo cram'd, as he thinks,
with excellencies, that it is his ground of faith, that all
that look on him, love him ; and on that vice in him
will my revenge find notable caufe to work.
Sir fo. What wilt thou do ?
Mar. I will drop in his way fome obfcure epiflles
of love, wherein, by the colour of his beard, the mape
of his leg, the manner of his gate, the expreffure of
his eye, forehead, and complexion, he mall find him-
felf moft feelingly perfonated. I can write very like
my Lady your Neice ; on a forgotten matter we can
hardly make diftinction of our hands.
Sir To. Excellent, I fmell a device.
Sir And. I have't in my nofe too.
Sir To. He {hall think by the letters, that thou wilt
drop, that they come from my Neice, and that me is
in love with him.
Mar. My purpofe is, indeed, a horfe of that colour.
Sir And. And your horfe now would make him
an afs.
7 an affeaioned aft] AfffRiened, fa full of affixation.
L 2 Afar.
48 TWELFTH-NIGHT: Or,
Mar. Afs, I doubt nor.
Sir And. O, 'twill be admirable.
Mar. Sport royal, I warrant you : I know, my
phyfick will work with him. I will plant you two,
and let the fool make a third, where he mall find the
letter : obferve his conftrudlion of it : for this night to
bed, and dream on the event. Farewel. [Exit.
Sir To. Good night, Penthifilea.
Sir And. Before me, fhe's a good wench.
Sir $0. She's a beagle, true-bred, and one that a-
dores me ; what o'that ?
Sir And. I was ador'd once too.
Sir To. Let's to bed, Knight : thou hadft need fend
for more mony.
Sir And. If I cannot recover your Neice, I am a
foul way out.
Sir To. Send for money, Knight ; if thou haft her
not i'th'end, call me cut.
Sir And. If I do not, never truft me, take it how
you will.
'Sir To. Come, come, I'll go burn fome fack, 'tis
too late to go to bed now : come, Knight ; come,
Knight. [Exeunt.
S C E N E V.
Changes to the Palace.
Enter Duke, Viola, Curio, and others.
Duke. /"""' I VE me fome mufick ; now, good mor-
Vj row, friends:
Now, good Cefario, but that piece of fong,
That old and antique long, we' heard laft night >
Methought, it did relieve my pafllon much *,
More than light airs, and 8 recollected terms
J recolleaed ttrmi] Rtcelhaetl, for ftudied.
Of
What you <wilL 149
OFthefe moft brisk and giddy-paced times.
Come, butoneverfe.
Cur. He is not here, fo pleafe your Lordfhip, that
fhould fing it.
Duke. Who was it ?
Cur. Fefte, the jefter, my Lord, a fool that the La--
dy Olivia's father took much delight in. He is about
the houfe.
Duke. Seek him out, and play the tune the while.
[Ex. Curio.
Come hither, boy ; if ever thou fhalt love,
In the fweet pangs of it, remember me j
For fuch as I am, all true lovers are j
Unftaid and skittilh 9 in all notions elfe,
Save in the conftant image of the creature
That is belov'd. How doftthou like this tune?
Via. " It gives a very echo from the feat
<c Where love is thron'd.
Duke. Thou doft fpeak mafterly.
My lifeupon't, young tho' thou art, thine eye
Hath (laid upon fome favour that it loves :
Hath it not, boy ?
Vw. A little, by your favour.
Duke. What kind of woman is't ?
Vio. Of your complexion.
Duke. She is not worth thee then. What years, i'faith ?
Vw. About your years, my Lord.
J)uke. " Too old, by heav'n ; let flill the woman
take
^ An elder than her felf, fo wears {he to him ;
" So fways me level in her husband's heart.
For, boy, however we do praife our felves,
9 in all motions elfe^ The Folio reads' notions, which is right,
I // gives a very erbo T o the feat
Where !o<ve is tbrond."\ We fhould read, FROM the /tat f
i. e. it reaches the throne of love, and reverberates thence.
L 3 Our
1 r O TwELITH-NlGHT: O,
Oar fancies are more giddy and unfirm,
More longing, wavering, fooner loft and worn,
Than women's are.
Vio. I think it well, my Lord.
Duke. Then let thy love be younger than thy felf,
Or thy affection cannot hold the bent :
For women are as rofes, whofe fair flower,
Being once difplay'd, doth fall that very hour,
Vio. And fo they are : alas, that they are fo,
TO die, even when they to perfection grow !
Enter Curio and Clown.
Duke. O fellow, come j the fong we had lafl night, '.
Mark it, Cefario, it is old and plain ;
" The fpinfters and the knitters in the fun,
*' And the free maids that weave their thread with
bones,
*' Do ufe to chant it : it is filly footh,
" * And tallies with the innocence of love,
" Like the old age.
Clo. Are you ready, Sir ?
Duke. Ay; pr'ythee, fing. [Mufick.
SONG.
*' Come away, come away., death,
** dnd in fad cyprefe let me be laid \
' Ply away^ fly away, breath,
" lamjlain by a fair cruel maid.
?' My Jbrowd of white, ftuck all with yew^
" O, prepare it.
*' My pun of de'atb no one fo true
" Didjhareit.
^ And dallies <witk the innocence of love,"] Da fliei has no fenfe.
Wfeiliould read, TALLIES, i.e. agrees with; is of a piece with.
" Not
What you
Not a flower i not a flower fweet,
" On my black coffin let there be ftrown :
Not a friend^ not a friend greet
" My poor corps , w^re wy bones Jhall be thrown.
d tboufand thoufand ftghs to fave,
" .Ltfjy #z<?, O / where
frue lover never find my grave,
Duke. There's for thy pains.
Clo. No pains, Sir ; I take pleafure in finging, Sir.
Duke. I'll pay thy pleafure then.
Clo. Truly, Sir, and pleafure will be paid one time
or other.
Duke. Give me now leave to leave thee.
Clo. Now the melancholy God protect thee, and the
taylor make thy doublet of changeable taffata, for thy
mind is J a very opal! I would have men of fuch con-
Itancy put to fea, 4 that their bufmefs might be every
thing, and their intent no where ; for that's it, that
always makes a good voyage of nothing. Farewel.
[Exit.
SCENE VI.
Duke. Let all the reft give place. Once more, Ce-
farioy
Get thee to yond fame fovereign cruelty :
1 a very opal !] A precious ftone of almoft all colours.
Mr. Pope.
4 that their bufaefs might be every thing, and their intent EVE-
RY where ;] Both the prefervation of the antithelis, and the reco-
covery of the fenfe, require we fhould read, - and their intent
NO 'where. Becaufe a man who fuffers himfelf to run with every
wind, and fo makes his bufinefs every where, cannot be faid to
have any intent ; for that word fignifies a determination of the
mind to fomething. Befides, the conclufion of mating a good voy-
age out of nothing, direfts to this emendation.
L 4 Tell
152 TWELFTH -NIGHT: Or,
Tell her, my love, more noble than the world,
Prizes not quantity of dirty lands ,
The parts, that fortune hath beftow'd upon her,
Tell her, I hold as giddily as fortune :
5 But 'tis that miracle, and Queen of Gems,
That nature pranks, her Mind, attracts my foul.
Via. But if (he cannot love you, Sir -
Duke. 6 I cannot be fo anfwer'd.
Vio, Sooth, but you muft.
Say, that fome Lady, as, perhaps, there is,
Hath for your love as great a pang of heart
As you have for Olivia : you cannot love her ;
You tell her fo ; muft me not then be anfwer'd?
Duke. There is no woman's fides
Can bide the beating of fo flrong a paffion,
As love doth give my heart : no woman's heart
So big to hold fo much -, they lack retention.
- Alas, their love may be call'd appetite :
No motion of the liver, but the palate,
That fuffers forfeit, cloyment, and revolt ;
But mine is all as hungry 35 the fea,
And can digeft as much ; make no compare
Between that love a woman can bear me,
And that I owe Olivia.
Fio. Ay, but I know
Duke. What doft thou knew?
5 ~Bui *tis iat miracle, and Queen of Gems,
That nature pranks her IN,- ] What is that miracle, and
Queen of Gems ? we are not told in this reading. Befides, whac is
meant by nature pranking her in a miracle ? We fhould read,
But 'tis that niirac/e, and >ueen of Gems,
That nature pranks, HER MIND,
/ *. what attracts my foul, is not her Fortune, but her Mind, that
miracle, and Queen of Gems that nature pranks, i, e. lets out, and
adorns.
6 IT cannot be fo anfiutird J We ihould read / ; the reply
fhews it.
What you will. 153
Vw. Too well what love women to men may owe j
In faith, they are as true of heart, as we.
My father had a, daughter lov'd a man,
As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman,
I fhould your Lord/hip.
Duke. And what's her hiftory ?
Vio. c A blank, my Lord : ihe never told her love,
But let concealment, like a worm i'th* bud,
Feed on her damask cheek : {he pin'd in thought ;
And, with a green and yellow melancholy,
7 She fat like Patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief. Was not this love, indeed ?
We
7 She fat like patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief. ] Mr. Theobald fuppofes this might poflibly be
borrowed from Chaucer.
And her befidis wender difcretlie,
Dame Pacience yftttinge there I fonde
With face pale, upon an hill of fonde.
And adds, If he was indebted, however, for the firfl rude draught,
hoiu amply has he repaid that debt, in heightning the pifiure ! How
much does the green and yellow melancholy tranfiend the old barfs
pale face ; the monument his hill of fand. 1 hope this Critick
does not imagine Shakefpear meant to give us a pifture of the face
of Patience, by his green and yellow melancholy ; becaufe, he fays, it
tranfcends the pate face of Patience given us by Chaucer. To throw
Patience into a fit of melancholy, would be indeed very extra-
ordinary. The green and yell&w then belonged not to Patience,
but to her who fat like Patience. To give Patience a paleface,
was proper : and had Shakefpear defcribed htr, he had done it as
Chaucer did. But Shakefpear is fpeaking of a marble ftatue of
Patience ; Chaucer, of Patience herfelf. And the two reprefenta-
tions of her, are in quite different views. Our Poet, fpeaking of a
defpairing lover, judicioufly compares her to Patience exercifed on
the death of friends and relations i which affords him the beauti-
ful picture of Patience on a monument. The old Bard fpeaking of
Patience herfelf, direclly, and not by comparifon, as judicioufly
draws her in that circumftance where fhe is moft exercifed, and
has occasion for all her virtue ; that is to fay, under the loffes of
Jhipvjretk. And now we fee why fhe is reprefented zsjitting on
an hill of fand, to defign the fcene to be the fea-fhore. It is finely
imagined ; and one of the noble fimplicities of that admirable Poet.
JB the Ciitick thought, in good earneit, that Chaucer's invention
wax
TWELPTH-NiG HT : Or,
We men may fay more, fwear more, but, indeed,
Our fhews are more than will ; for ftill we prove
Much in our vows, but little in our love.
Duke. But dy'd thy filler of her love, my boy ?
Vw. 8 I'm all the daughters of my fathers* houfe,
And all the brothers too and yet I know not-
Sir, mall I to this Lady?
Duke. Ay, that's thetheam.
To her in hafte ; give her this jewel : fay,
My love can give no place, bide no denay. [Exeunt.
SCENE VII.
Changes to Olivia'j Garden.
Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian.
Sir To. /^ O M E thy ways, Signior Fabian.
Fab. Nay, I'll come ; if I lofe a fcru-
pie of this fport, let me be boil'd to death with melan-
choly.
Sir To. Would'ft thou not be glad to have the
niggardly rafcally fheep-biter come by fome notable
lhame ?
was fo barren, and his imagination fo beggarly, that he was not
able to be at the charge of a monument for his Goddefs, but left
her, like a ilroller, funning herfelf upon a heap of fand.
8 Fm all the daughters of my father? boufe,
And all the brother i too - ] This was the moft artful anfvver
that could be given. The queftion was of fuch a nature, that to
have declined the appearance of a direft anfwer, muft have raifed
fufpicion. This has the appearance of a diredl anfwer, that the
fifler died of her love ; {he (who pafled for a man) faying, fhe was
all the daughters of her father's houfe. But the Oxford Editor, a
great enemy, as fhould feera, to all equivocation, obliges her to
anfwer thus,
Shis all the daughters of my father 1 s houfe,
And 1 am all the fans > But if it ftiould be asked now,
how the Duke came to take this for an anfwer to his queilion, to
be fure the Editor can tell as.
Fab.
What you *wilL
Fab. I would exult, man ; you know, he brought
me out of favour with my Lady, about a bear-baiting
here.
Sir 0. To anger him, we'll have the bear again ;
and we will fool him black and blue, fhall we not, Sir
Andrew ?
Sir And. An we do not, it's pity of our lives.
Enter Maria.
Sir To. Here comes the little villain : how now, my
nettle of India ?
Mar. Get ye all three into the box-tree ; Maholio's
coming down this walk, he has been yonder i'th* fun
practifing behaviour to his own Ihadow this half hour.
Obferve him, for the love of mockery ; for, I know,
this Letter will make a contemplative idiot of him.
Clofe, in the name of jefting ! lye thou there ; for here
comes the trout that muft be caught with tickling.
[Throws down A letter, and Exit.
SCENE VIII.
Enter Malvolio.
Mai. 'Tis but fortune, all is fortune. Maria o*nce
told me, fhe did affect me ; and I have heard her felf
come thus near, that mould me fancy, it fhould be one
of my complexion. Befides, meufes me with a more
exalted refpecl, than any one elfe that follows her.
What mould I think on't ?
Sir To. Here's an over-weaning rogue.
Fab. O, peace : contemplation makes a rare Tur-
key-cock of him 5 how he jets under his advanced
plumes !
Sir And. 'Slife, I could fo beat the rogue.
Sir To. Peace, I fay.
Mai. To be Count Malvolio^
Sir
TWELFTH-NIGHT : Or,
Sir To. Ah, rogue !
Sir And. Piftol him, piftol him.
Sir To. Peace, peace.
Mai. There is example for't: 9 the Lady of the
Tracby married the yeoman of the wardrobe.
Sir And. Fie on him, Jezebel I
Fab. O, peace, now he's deeply in; look, how
imagination blows him.
Mai. Having been three months married to her,
fitting in my ftate
Sir To. O for a ftone-bow, to hit him in the eye !
Mai. Calling my officers about me, in my branch'd
velvet gown ; having come down from a day-bed,
where I have left Olivia fleeping.
Sir To. Fire and brimftone!
Fab. O, peace, peace.
Mai. And then to have the humour of ftate ; and
after a demure travel of regard, telling them, I know
my place, as I would they mould do theirs - to ask
for my uncle Toby*
Sir To. Bolts and fhackles !
Fab. Oh, peace, peace, peace ; now, now.
Mai. Seven of my people with an obedient ftart
make out for him : I frown the while, and, perchance,
wind up my watch, or play with fome rich jewel.
Toby approaches, curtfies there to me.
Sir To. Shall this Fellow live?
Fab. ' Tho'our filence be drawn from us with cares,
yet, peace.
Mai
9 the Lady of the Strachy] We fhowld read Tracty, i. e. Thrace ;
for fo the old Englijh writers called it. Mandemille fays, sis Trachye
and Macedoigne of the lubicb. Alifandre 'was Kyng. Jt was com-
mon to ufe the article the before names of places : And this was no
improper inftance, where the iccne was in lllyria-
I Tho our Jilence be drawn from us 'with cares,] i. e. Tho" it is
the greateft pain to us to keep filence. Yet the Oxford Editor has
altered it to,
TM our Jilence le drawn from Ui fy tl? ears.
There
What you 'will-. 1 5 7
Md. I extend my hand to him thus ; quenching
my familiar fmile with an auftere regard of controul.
Sir To. And does not Toby take you a blow o'th*
lips then?
Mai. Saying, uncle Toby^ my fortunes having caft
me on your Neice, give me this prerogative of
fpeech
Sir To. What, what?
Mai. You muft amend your drunkennefs.
Sir To. Out, fcab !
Fab. Nay, patience, or we break the finews of
our plot.
Mai. Befides, you wafte the treafure of your time
with a foolifh Knight
Sir And. That's me, I warrant you.
Mai. One Sir Andrew,
Sir And. I knew, 'twas I j for many do call m<$
Fool.
Md. z What employment have we here ?
[Taking up the Letter.
Fab. Now is the woodcock near the gin.
Sir To. Oh peace ! now the fpirit of humours in-
timate reading aloud to him !
Mai. By my life, this is my Lady's hand : thefe
be her very C's, her J7's, and her 2"'s, and thus makes
flie her great P's. It is, in contempt of queftion, her
hand.
There is fome conceit, I fuppofe, in this, as in many other of his
alterations, yet it oft lies fo deep that the reader has reafon to
wi(h he could have explained his own meaning.
2 What employment have nve here?] A phrafe of that time,
equivalent to our common fpeech of Whafs to do here. The Ox-
ford Editor, not attending to this, alters it to
What implement have ive here ?
By which happy emendation, he makes Malvolio to be in the plot
againft himfelf; or how could he know that this letter was an ita-
fhment mads ufe of to catch him ?
Sir And.
158 TWELFTH- NIGHT: Or,
Sir And. Her C's, her U*s, and her 2~'s: why
that?
Mai. the unknown belotfd, ibis, and my good
wljhes ; her very phrafes : By your leave, wax. Soft !
and the impreflure her Lucrece, with which fhe ufes
to feal; 'tis my Lady: to whom fhould this be?
Fab. This wins him, liver and all.
Mai. Jove knows I lo*ve> but iubo^ lips do not move,
no man muft know. No man muft know whan fol-
lows ? the number's aher'ci no man muft know
if this mould be thee, Maivolio?
Sir fo. Marry, hang thee, Brock !
Mai. I may command where I adore^ hit filence^ like a,
Lucrece knife 9
With bloodlefs ftroke my heart doth gore^ M. O. A. I.
doth fway my life.
Fab. A fuftian riddle.
Sir 20. Excellent wench, fay I.
Mai. M. O. A. I. doth fway my life nay, but
Srft, let me fee > Jet me fee -
Fab. What a difh of poifon has fhe drefs'd him ?
Sir T'o. And with what wing the ftanyel checks
at it ?
Mai. I may command where I adore. Why, fhe
may command me : I ferve her, fhe is my Lady.
Why, this is evident to any 3 formal capacity. There
is no obftruc"lion in this and the end what mould
that alphabetical pofition portend ? if I could make
that refemble fomething in me ? foftly M. O.
Sir To. O, ay ! make up that ; he is now at a cold
fcent.
Fab. Sowter will cry upon't for all this, tho* it be
as rank as a fox.
Mai. M. Maholio -M. why, that begins
my name.
3 formal c opacity.] Formal, r cr common.
What you will. r r n
Fab. Did not I fay, he would work it out ? the cur
is excellent at faults.
Mai. M. But then there is no confonancy in the
fequel ; That fuffers under probation : A mould fol-
low, but O does.
Fab, And O mall end, I hope.
SirZb. Ay, or I'll cudgel him, and make him
cry, O.
Mai. And then / comes behind.
Fab. Ay, and you had any eye behind you, you
might fee more detraction at your heels than fortunes
before you.
Mai. M. O. A. I. + this fimulation is not as the
former and yet to cruQi this a little, it would bow
to me, for every one of thefe letters is in my name.
Soft, here follows profe If this fall into thy hand,
revolve. In my ftars I am above thee, but be not afraid
of greatnefs ; fome are born great, fome atchieve great-*
nef$, and fome have greatnefs thruft upon them. Thy
fates open their hands, let thy blood and fpirit embrace
them ; and to inure thyfeif to what tbou art like to be,
caft thy humble ftough, and appear frejh. Be oppofite
with a kinfman, furly with ferv ants : let thy tongue tang
arguments of ft ate; put thyfeif into the trick of fingu-
larity. She thus advifes thee, that fighs for thee. Re-
me?nber who commended thy yellow ft ockings, and wiftfd
to fee thee ever croft-gartered. I fay, remember ; go to,
tbou art made, if thou dejireft to be fo : if not, let tne
fee thee a fteward ftill, the fellow of ferv ants, and not
worthy to touch fortunes'' fingers. Farewel. She, that
would alt,r fervices 5 with thee, the fortunate and happy.
Day-light and champian difcover no more: this is
4 this fimulation] Simulation, for refemfrlance.
5 nvitb thee. The fortunate and happy day-light and champian
di/covers no more :~\ Wrong pointed : We {bould read, <witb thee,
the fortunate and happy. Day-light and champian dtfco'ver no more :
i e. Broad day and an open country cannot make things plainer.
open.
Tw ELJT H-Nl GH T : Of,
open. I will be proud, I will read politick authors,
I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wafh off grofs acquain-
tance, I will be point devife, the very man. I do
not now fool myfelf, to let imagination jade mej for
every reafon excites to this, that my Lady loves me.
She did commend my yellow {lockings of late, fhe
did praife my leg, being crofs-garter'd, and in this
fhe manifefts herfelf to my love, and with a kind of
injunction drives me to thefe habits of her liking. I
thank my ftars, I am happy : I will be ftrange, ftout,
in yellow (lockings, and crofs-garter'd, even with the
fwiftnefs of putting on. Jove, and my ftars be praifed!
Here is yet a poftfcript. Thou canft not chufe but
know who 1 am , if tbou entertaineft my love, let it ap-
fear in thy failing - t thyfmiles become tbee well. 'There-
fore in my prefcnce ftill fmile, dear my fweet, I pr*y-
thee. Jove, I thank thee! I will fmile, I will do
every thing that thou wilt have me. [Exit.
Fab. I will not give my part of this fport for a
penfion of thoufands to be paid from the Sophy.
Sir fo. I could marry this wench for this device.
Sir And. So could I too.
Sir To. And ask no other dowry with her, but fuch
another jeft.
SCENE IX.
Enter Maria.
Sir And. Nor I neither.
Fab. Here comes my noble gull- catcher.
Sir To. Wilt thou fet thy foot o* my neck ?
Sir And. Or o' mine either ?
Sir To. Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, and
become thy bond-flave ?
Sir And. I 'faith, or I either?
Sir To.
What you oy/7/. T 6 1
Sir To. Why, thou haft put him in fuch a dresm,
that when the image of it leaves him, he muft run
mad.
Mar. Nay, but fay true, does it work upon him ?
Sir. To. Like Aqua vit<e with a midwife;
Mar. If you will then fee the fruits of the fport,
mark his firft approach before my Lady: he will
come to her in yellow (lockings, and 'tis a colour me
abhors ; and crofs-garter'd, a fafhion me detefts ; and
he will fmile upon her, which will now be fo un-
fuitable to her difpofition, being addicted to a melan-
choly, as me is> that it cannot but turn him into a
notable contempt : if you will fee it, follow me.
Sit To. To the gates of Tartar \ thou moft excel-
lent devil of wit !
Sir And. 1*11 make one too. {Exeunt.
ACT IIL SCENE L
O L i v i A'S Garden.
Enter Viola, and Clown. 1
VIOLA.
SAV E thee* Friend, and thy mufick : doft thou
live by thy Tabor ?
Clo. No, Sir, I live by the Church.
Vio. Art thou a Churchman ?
Clo. No fuch matter, Sir 5 I do live by the Church ;
for I do live at my Houfe, and my Houfe doth (land
by the Church.
Vio. So thou may'ft fay, the King lyes by a Beg-
gar, if a Beggar dwell near him : or the Church (lands
by thy Tabor, if thy Tabor (land by the Church.
VOL. III. M do.
I 62 TWELFTH-NIGHT: O,
Clo. You have faid, Sir : to fee this age! A fen-
tence is but' a * chev'ril glove to a good wit ; how
quickly the wrong fide may be turned outward ?
Vio. Nay, that's certain ; they, that dally nicely
with words, may quickly make them wanton.
Clo. I would therefore, my Sifter had had no Name,
Sir.
Vio. Why, Man?
Clo. Why, Sir, her Name's a word ; and to dally
with that word, might make my Sifter wanton ; but,
indeed, words are very rafcals, fince bonds difgrac'd
them.
yio. Thy reafon, Man ?
Clo. Troth, Sir, I can yield you none without
words ; and words are grown fo falfe, I am loth to
prove reafon with them.
Vw. I warrant, thou art a merry Fellow, and careft
for nothing.
Clo. Not fo, Sir, I do care for fomething ; but, in
my confcience, Sir, I do not care for you : if that be
to care for nothing, Sir, I would, it would make you
invifible.
yio. Art not thou the Lady Olivia's Fool ?
Clo. No, indeed, Sir ; the Lady Olivia has no folly ;
me will keep no Fool, Sir, 'till {he be married ; and
Fools are as like Husbands, as Pilchers are to Herrings,
the Husband's the bigger : I am, indeed, not her Fool,
but her Corrupter of Words.
yio. I faw thee late at the Duke Orftno's.
Clo. Foolery, Sir, does walk about the Orb like the
Sun ; it mines every where. I would be forry, Sir,
but the fool fhould be as oft with your Mafter, as with
ny Miftrefs : I think, I faw your wifdom there.
Vw. Nay, an thou pafs upon me, I'll no more with
thee. Hold, there's expences for thee.
I a che<v'ril glove] A glove made of a kid's skin, from Chevereul,
French. Chiave>-ello t Ital. Cefr it/us, Lat. Mr. Pope.
Clo.
What you luilL
Clo. Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair,
fend thee a beard !
Vio. By my troth, I'll tell thee, I am almoft fick
for one, though I would not have it grow on my chin.
Is thy lady within ?
Clo. Would not a pair of thefc have bred, Sir ?
'Vio. Yes, being kept together, and put to ufe.
Clo. I would play lord Pandarus of Phrygia^ Sir,
to bring a Or^rdtf to this Troylus.
Vw. I underftand you, Sir, 'tis well begg*d.
Clo. The matter, I hope, is not great, Sir ; begging
but a beggar : Creffida was a beggar. My lady is
within, Sir, I will confter to them whence you come ;
who you are, and what you would, is out of my wel-
kin ; I might fay, element ; but the word is over-worn.
[Exit.
Vio. This fellow is wife enough to play the fool,
And, to do that well, craves a kind of wit:
He muftobferve their mood on whom hejefts,
The quality of the perfons, and the time ;
And, like the haggard, check at every feather
That comes before his eye. This is a practice,
As full of labour as a wife-man's art :
For folly, that he wifely mews, is fit ;
But wife men's folly-fall'n, quite taints their wit.
SCENE II.
Enter Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew.
* Sir And. Save you, gentleman.
Vio. And you, Sir.
Sir 'To. Dieu vous guards^ Monfieur.
Vw. Et vous auffi j voftre ferviteur.
Sir To. I hope, Sir, you are ; and I am yours.*
2 Hre the fpeeches re&ified by Mr. Theobald.
M 2 Will
164 TWELFTH-NlGHT: Or,
Will you encounter the Houfe ? my Niece is defirous
you (hould enter, if your trade be to her.
Vio. I am bound to your Niece, Sir j I mean, Ihe is
the lift of my voyage.
Sir To. Tafte your legs, Sir, put them to motion.
Vio. My legs do better underftand me, Sir, than I
underftand what you mean by bidding me tafte my
legs.
Sir 70. I mean, to go, Sir, to enter.
Vio. I will anfwer you with gate and entrance , but
we are prevented.
Enter Olivia and Maria.
Moft excellent accomplifh'd lady, the heav'ns rain
odours on you !
Sir And. That youth's a rare Courtier ! rain odours ?
well.
Vio. My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your
own 3 moft pregnant and vouchfafed ear.
Sir And. Odours, pregnant, and vouchfafed : I'll
get 'em all three ready.
Oli. Let the garden door be fhut, and leave me to my
hearing. [Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Maria.
SCENE III.
Give me your hand, Sir.
Vio. My duty, Madam, and moft humble fervice.
Oli. What is your name ?
Vio. Cefario is your fervant's name, fair Princefs.
Oli. My fervant, Sir ? 'Twas never merry world,
Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment :
Y'are fervant to the Duke Orjino, youth.
Vio. And he is yours, and he muft needs be yours :
Your fervant's fervant is your fervant, Madam.
3 mefl pregnant and vmcbfafed far.'] Pregnant, for ready.
Oli.
What you iw/7. 165
Oli. For him, I think not on him : for his thoughts,
'Would they were blanks, rather than fill'd wich me!
Vio. Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts
On his behalf.
OK. O, by your leave, I pray you ; .
I bade you never fpeak again of him.
But would you undertake another fuit,
I'd rather hear you to follicit That,
Than mufick from the fpheres.
Vw. Dear lady,
OK. Give me leave, I befeech you : I did fend,
4 After the laft enchantment you did here,
A ring in chafe of you. So did I abufe
Myfelf, my fervant, and, I fear me, youj
Under your hard conftruftion muft I fit.
To force that on you in a fhameful cunning,
Which you knew none of yours. What might you
think ?
Have you not fet mine honour at the flake,
And baited it with all th' unmuzzled thoughts
That tyrannous heart can think ? * to one of your re-j
ceiving
Enough is mewn 5 a Cyprus, not a bofom,
Hides my poor heart. So let us hear you fpeak.
Vio. I pity you.
Oli. That's a degree to love.
Vio. No, not a grice : for 'tis a vulgar proof,
That very oft we pity enemies.
OK. Why then, methinks, 'tis time to fmile again?
O world, how apt the poor are to be proud !
If one mould be a prey, how much the better
4 After the lajl enchantment t you did hear,] Nonfenfe. Read
and point it thus,
After the laft enchantment you did here,
i. e. after the enchantment, your prefence worked in my afie&ions.
5 to one of your receiving] /'. e. to one of your ready apprtbtnjion.
She confiders him as an arch page.
M 3 To
66 TWELFTH-NIG HT: Gr,
To fall before the lion, than the wolf ! [Clock ftrikes*
The clock upbraids me with the wafte of time.
Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you ;
And yet when wit and youth are come to harveft a
Your wife is like to reap a proper man :
There lies your way, due weft.
Vio. Then weftward hoe :
Grace and good difpofuion attend your ladymip !
You'll nothing, Madam, to my Lord by me ?
Oli. Stay ; pr'ythee tell me, what thou think'fl of
me ?
Vw. That you do think, you are not what you are.
OH. If I think fo, I think the fame of you.
Vio. Then think you right, I am not what I am.
OK. I would you were, as I would have you be !
Vio. Would it be better. Madam, than I am ?
J wifh it might, for now I am your fool.
Oli. O, what a deal of fcorn looks beautiful
In the contempt and anger of his lip !
A murd'rous guilt mews not itfelf more foon,
Than love that would feem hid : love's night is noon*
Cefario, by the rofes of the fpring,
By maid -hood, honour, truth, and every thing,
I love thee fo, that, maugre all thy pride,
Nor wit, nor reafon, can my paflion hide.
Do not extort thy reafons from this claufe,
For that I woo, thou therefore haft no caufe :
But rather reafon thus with reafon fetter ;
J^ove fought is good ; but given, unfought, is better.
Vio. By innocence I fwear, and by my youth,
I have one heart, one bofom, and one truth.
And that no woman has ; nor never none
Shall miftrefs be of it, fave I alone.
And fo adieu, good Madam-, never more
Will I my matter's tears to you deplore.
0/4.
What you ou/7/. 167
Cli. Yet come again ; for thou, perhaps, may 'ft
move
That heart, which now abhors, to like his love.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Changes to an Apartment in Olivia'* Houfe.
Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian.
Sir And. XT O, faith, I'll not (lay a jot longer.
Sir To. Thy reafon, dear venom,
give thy reafon.
Fab. You muft needs yield your reafon, Sir Andrew.
Sir And. Marry, I faw your neice do more favours
to the Duke's ferving-man, than ever fhe beftow'd on
me. I faw't, i'th' orchard.
Sir To. Did fhe fee thee the while, old boy, tell me
that ?
Sir And. As plain as I fee you now.
Fab. This was a great argument of love in her to-
wards you.
Sir And. 'Slight ! will you make an afs o' me ?
Fab. I will prove it legitimate, Sir, upon the
oaths of judgment and reafon.
Sir To. And they have been Grand Jury-men fmce
before Noah was a failor.
Fab. She did mew favour to the youth in your light,
only to exafperate you, to awake your dormoufe va-
lour, to put fire in your heart, and brimftone in your
liver. You mould then have accofted her, with fome
excellent jefts, fire-new from the mint ; you fliouldhave
bang'd the youth into dumbnefs. This was look'd for"
at your hand, and this was baulkt. The double gilt of
this opportunity you let time wafh off, '* and you are
" now fail'd into the north of my lady's opinion;
*' where you will hang like an ificle on a Duubman'*
M 4 " beard,"
I 68 TwELFTH-NlQHT: Or,
46 beard," unlefs you do redeem it by fome laudabla
attempt, either of valour or policy.
Sir And. And't be any way, it muft be with va-
lour ; for policy I hate : I had as lief be a Browni]}, as
a politician.
Sir To. Why then, build me thy fortunes upon the
bads of valour; challenge rne the Duke's youth to.
fight with him ; hurt him in eleven places ; my neice
fhall take note of it; and afliire thyfelf, there is no
love-broker in the world can more prevail in man's
commendation with woman than report of valour.
Fab. There is no way but this, Sir Andrew.
Sir And. Will either of you bear me a challenge to him 2
Sir To. Go, write in a martial hand ; be curft and
brief: it is no matter how witty, fo it be eloquent, and
full of invention ; taunt him with the licence of ink ;
if thou ihou*ft him fome thrice, it fhall not be amifs ;
and as many lies as will lye in thy meet of paper, air
though the meet were big enough for the bed of Ware
in England ; fet *em down, go about it. Let there be
gall enough in thy ink, tho* thpu write with a goofe-
pen, no matter : about it.
Sir And. Where {hall I find you ?
Sir To. We'll call thee at the Cubicuh : go.
I Exit Sir Andrew.
SCENE V.
Fab. This is a dear manikin to you, Sir Toby.
Sir To. I have been dear to. him, lad, fome two
thoufand ftrong or fo.
Fab. We mall have a rare letter from him 5 but
you'll not deliver^:.
Sir To. Never truft me then ; and by all means ftir
on the youth to an anfwer. I think, oxen and wain-
ropes cannot hale them together. For Andrew^ if he
were open*d, and you findfo much blood in his liver
as
What you
as will clog the foot of a flea, I'll eat the reft of
th' anatomy.
Fab. And his oppofite, the youth, bears in his vifage
no great prefage of cruelty.
Enter Maria.
Sir To. f Look, where the youngeft wren of nine
comes.
Mar. If you defire the fpleen, and will laugh your-
felves into flitches, follow me : yond gull Malvolio is
turned Heathen, a very Renegado ; for there is no
Chriftian, that means to be fav'dby believing rightly,
can ever believe fuch impoffible paflages of grofihefs.
He's in yellow ftockings.
Sir $0. And crofs- garter J d ?
Mar. Moft villainoufly ; like a pedant that keeps
3 fchool i'th* church : I have dogg'd him, like his
murtherer. He does obey every point of the letter,
that I dropt to betray him , he does fmile his face into
more lines than is in the new map, with the augmen-
tation of the Indies i you have not feen fuch a thing,
as 'tis ; I can hardly forbear hurling things at him. I
Jcnow, my lady will ftrikehim ; if me do, he'll fmile,
and take't for a great favour.
Sir TO. Come, bring us, bring us where he is.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VI.
Changes to the Street.
Enter. Sebaftian and Anthonio.
Sfb. II" Would not by my will have troubled you.
JL But fince you make your pleafure of your pains,
6 Look, where the voungejl luren of nine comes. "\ The womens
parts were then afted by boys, fometimes fo low in ftature, that
there was occafion to obviate the impropriety by fuch kind of
pblique apologies.
TWELFTH-N JGHT: Or,
I will no further chide you.
Ant. I could not ftay behind you ; my dcfirc,
(More (harp than filed fteel,) did fpur me forth ;
And not all love to fee you, (tho' fo much,
As might have drawn one to a longer voyage.)
But jealoufie what might befal your travel,
Being skillefs in thefe parts ; which to a ftranger,
Unguided and unfriended, often prove
Rough and unhofpitable. My willing love,
The rather by thefe arguments of fear,
Set forth in your purfuit.
Seb. My kind Anthonio,
I can no other anfwer make, but thanks ;
And thanks, and (a) ever thanks ; and oft good turns
Are muffled off with fuch uncurrent pay ;
But were my worth, as is my confcience, firm,
You mould find better dealing : what's to do ?
Shall we go 7 fee the relicks of this town ?
Ant. To-morrow, Sir ; beft, firft, go fee your
lodging.
Seb. I am not weary, and 'tis long to night ;
I pray you, let us fatisfie our eyes
With the memorials, and the things of fame,
That do renown this city.
Ant. 'Would, you'd pardon me:
I do not without danger walk thefe ftreets.
Once, in a fea-fight 'gainft the Duke his gallics,
I did fome fervice, of fuch note, indeed,
That were I ta'en here, it would fcarce be anfwer'd.
Seb. Belike, you flew great number of his people.
Ant. Th' offence is not of fuch a bloody nature,
Albeit the quality of the time and quarrel
Might well have given us bloody argument:
It might have fmce been anfwer'd in repaying
7 fee the relicks of this ttnva ?] Re/icts, for curiofuies.
[ (a) ever thanks, Mr. Theobald Vulg. ever oft. ~\
What
What you 'will.
What we took from them, which, for traffick's fake,
Mod of our city did. Only myfelf flood out ;
For which, if I be lapfed in this place,
I fhall pay dear.
Seb. Do not then walk too open.
Ant. It doth not fit me : hold, Sir, here's my purfe.
In the fouth fuburbs at the Elephant
Is beft to lodge : I will befpeak our diet,
Whiles you beguile your time, and feed your knowledge
With viewing of the town ; there fhall you have me.
Seb. Why I your purfe ?
Ant. Haply, your eye fhall light upon fome toy
You have defire to purchafe ; and your flore,
I think, is not for idle markets, Sir.
Seb. I'll be your purfe-bearer, and leave you for
An hour.
Ant. To th' Elephant.
Seb. I do remember. [Exeunt.
SCENE VII.
Changes to Olivia'* Houfe.
Enter Olivia, and Maria.
Oli. T Have fent after him , 8 he fays he'll come 5
JL How fhall I feaft him ? what beftow on him ?
For youth is bought more oft ? than begg'd or bor-
row'd.
I fpeak too loud.-
Where is Malvolio ? he is fad and civil,
And fuits well for a fervant with my fortunes.
Where is Malvolio ?
8 be fays be* II come ;] i. e. I fuppofe now, or admit now, he
fays he'll come ; which Mr. Theobald, not underftanding, alters
unneceffarily to, fay he will come ; in which the Oxford Editor has
followed him.
Mar*
TWELFTH- NIG HT: Or,
Mar. He's coming, Madam s but in very ftrange
manner.
He is fure pofleft, Madam.
Oli. Why, what's the matter, does he rave ?
Mar. No, Madam, he does nothing but fmile ;
your Jadyftiip were beft to have fome guard about you,
if he come ; for, fure, the man is tainted in his wits.
OK. Go call him hither.
Enter Malvolio.
Pm as mad as he,
If fad and merry madnefs equal be.
How now, Malvolio ?
Mai. Sweet lady, ha, ha. [Smiles fantafticdly*
OIL Smil'ft thou ? I fent for thee upon a fad oc-
cafion.
Mai. Sad, lady ? I could be fad ; this does make
fome obftrution in the blood ; this crofs-gartering ;
but what of it ? if it pleafe the eye of One, it is with
me as the very true fonnet is : Pleafe one y and pleafe all.
OIL Why ? how doft thou, man ? what is the mat-
ter with thee ?
Mai. Not black in my mind, tho* yellow in my
legs : it did come to his hands, and commands mail
be executed. I think, we do know that fweet Ro-
man hand.
OIL Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio ?
Mai. To bed ? ay, fweet heart ; and Pll come to
thee.
OH. God comfort thee ! why doft thou fmile fo,
and kifs thy hand fo oft ?
Mar. How do you, Maholio ?
Mai. At your requeft ?
Yes, nightingales anfwer daws!
Mar. Why appear you with this ridiculous boldnefs
before my lady ?
Mai. Be not afraid of Greatnefs i 'twas well writ.
OIL
Wlnat you 'will.
Oli. What meaneft thou by that, Maholio ?
Mai. Some are born Great
O/i Ha?
Mai. Some atchieve Greatnefs
O/i. What fay'ft thou ?
Mai. And fome have Greatnefs thrufl upon them*
OK. Heav'n reflore thee !
Mai. Remember, who commanded thy yellow
ilockings. "
O/i. Thy yellow (lockings ?
Mai. And wim'd to fee thee crofs-garter'd
O/i. Crofs-garter'd ?
Mai. Go to, thou art made, if thou defireft to bQ
fo
Oli. Am I made ?
Mai. If not, let me fee thee a fervant dill.
Oli. Why, this is a very midfummer madnefs,
Enter Servant.
Ser. Madam, the young gentleman of the Duke 0;v
fino's is return'd ; I could hardly entreat him back i
he attends your ladymip's ple*afure.
O/i. I'll come to him. Good Maria> let this fellow
be look'd to. Where's my uncle Toby? let fome of my
people have a fpecial care of him > I would not have
him mifcarry for half of my dowry. [Exit.
SCENE VIII.
Mai. Oh, oh ! do you come near me now ? no worfe
man than Sir Toby to look to me! this concurs direct-
ly with the letter ; fhe fends him on purpofethat I may
appear ftubborn to him ; for fhe incites me to that in
the letter. Caft thy humble flough, fays (he ; be op-
pofite with a kinfman, furly with fervants, let thy
tongue tang with arguments of (late, put thyfelf into
the trick of fingularity -, and confequently fetsdown
the
TWELFTH-NIGHT: Or,
the manner how ; as a fad face, a reverend carriage, a
flow tongue, in the habit of fome Sir of note, and fo
forth. I have lim'd her, but it is Jove's doing, and
Jove make me thankful ! and when (he went away
now, let this fellow be look'd to : Fellow ! not Mal-
volioy nor after my degree, but fellow. Why, every
thing adheres together, that no dram of a fcruple, no
fcruple of a fcruple, noobftacle, no incredulous or un-
fafe circumftance what can be faid ? Nothing, that
can be, can come between me and the full profpedt
of my hopes. Well, Jove t not I, is the doer of this,
and he is to be thanked.
SCENE IX.
Enter Sir Toby, Fabian, and Maria.
Sir To. Which way is he, in the name of fanctity ?
if all the devils in hell be drawn in little, and Legion
himfelf poflefl him, yet 1*11 fpeak to him.
Fab. Here he is, here he is ; how is't with you,
Sir ? how is't with you,, man ?
Mai. Go off; I difcard you ; let me enjoy my pri-
vacy : go off.
Mar. Lo, how hollow the fiend fpeaks within him !
did not I tell you ? Sir Toby, my lady prays you to
have a care of him.
Mai Ah, ha ! does me fo?
Sir To. Go to, go to ; peace, peace, we muft deal
gently with him ; let me alone. How do you, Maho-
lio? how is't with you ? what! man, defie the devil ;
confider, he's an enemy to mankind.
Mai. Do you know what you fay?
Mar. La, you ! if you fpeak ill of the devil, how
he takes it at heart. Pray God, he be not be-
witch'd.
Fab. Carry his water to th* wife woman.
Mar.
What you will.
friar. Marry, and it mail be done to-morrow morn-
ing if I live. My lady would not lofe him for more
Chan I'll fay.
Mai. How now, miftrefs ?
Mar. O lord !
Sir To. Pr'ythee, hold thy peace ; that is not the
way : do you not fee, you move him ? let me alone
with him.
Fab. No way but gentlenefs, gently, gently ; the
fiend is rough, and will not be roughly us'd.
Sir To. Why, how now, my bawcock ? how doft
thou, chuck ?
Mai. Sir ?
Sir To. Ay, biddy, come with me. What! man,
'tis not for gravity to play at cherry -pit with fatarw
Hang him, foul collier.
Mar. Get him to fay his prayers, good Sir Toby ;
get him to pray.
Mai. My prayers, minx!
Mar. No, I warrant you, he will not hear ofgod-
linefs.
Mai. Go hang yourfelves all : you are idle fhallow
things ; I am not of your element, you mall know
more hereafter. [Exit.
Sir To. Is't poflible ?
Fab. If this were plaid upon a ftage now, I could
condemn ft as an improbable fiction.
Sir To. His very genius hath taken the infection of
the device, man.
Mar. Nay, purfue him now, left the device take
air, and taint.
Fab. Why, we (hall make him mad, indeed.
Mar. The houfe will be the quieter.
Sir To. Come, we'll have him in a dark room and
bound. My neice is already in the belief that he's mad j
we may carry it thus for our pleafure and his penance,
'till our very paftime, tired out of breath, prompt us
to
76 TWE LFTH-NlGHT: Or,
to have mercy on him; at which time we will bring
the device to the bar, and crown thee for a finder of
madmen ; but fee, but fee.
SCENE X.
Enter Sir Andrew*
Fab. More matter for a May morning.
Sir And. Here's the challenge, read it : I warrant^
there's vinegar and pepper in't.
Fab. fs't fo fawcy ?
Sir And. Ay, is't? I warrant him: do but read.
Sir To. Give me. [Sir Toby reads*
Toutby whatfoever thou art, thou art but a fcuruy fel-
low.
Fab. Good and valiant.
Sir To. Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind why
I do call thee fo 5 for I willfhew thee no reafonfor't.
Fab. A good note -, That keeps you from the blow
of the law.
Sir To. Thou com'ft to the Lady Olivia, and in my
Jtgbtjheufes thee kindly ; but thou Heft in thy throat, that
is not the matter I challenge thee for.
Fab. Very brief, and exceeding good fenfe-lefs.
Sir To. I will way-lay thee going home, where if it be
thy chance to kill me -
Fab. Good.
Sir To. Thou kill'ft me like a rogue and a villain.
Fab. Still you keep o'th' windy fide of the law :
good.
Sir To. Fare thee well^ and God have mercy upon one
of our fouls : he may have mercy upon mine^ but my hope
is better, and fo look to thyjelf. Thy friend as thou ttfejl
him, and thy fworn enemy ^ Andrew Ague-cheek.
Sir To. If this letter move him not, his legs cannot ;
I'll give't him,
Mar,
What you iitf'//, 177
Mar. You may have very fit occafion for't : he is
now in fome commerce wich my lady, and will by-
and-by depart.
Sir To. Go, Sir Andrew, fcout me for him at the
corner of the orchard like a bum-bailiff j fo foon as
ever thou leeft him, draw ; and, as thou draw'ft,
fwear horribly ; for it comes to pafs oft, that a ter-
rible oath, with a fwaggering accent (harply twang'd
off, gives manhood more approbation than ever proof
itfelf would have earn'd him. Away.
Sir And. Nay, let me alone for fwearing. \_Exit.
Sir fo. Now will not I deliver his letter , for the
behaviour of the young gentleman gives him out to
be of good capacity and breeding ; his employment
between his lord and my neice confirms no lefs;
therefore this letter, being fo excellently ignorant, will
breed no terror in the youth; he will find, that ic
comes from a clodpole. But, Sir, I will deliver his
challenge by word of mouth , fet upon Ague-cheek a
notable report of valour > and drive the gentleman,
(as, I know, his youth will aptly receive it,) into a
moft hideous opinion of his rage, skill, fury, and
impetuofity. This will fo fright them both, that
they will kill one another by the look, like cocka-
trices,
SCENE XI.
Enter Olivia and Viola.
Fab. Here he comes with your neice ; give them
way, 'till he take leave, and prefently after him.
Sir to. I will meditate the while upon fome horrid
meflage for a challenge. \Exeunt,
Oil. I've faid too much unto a heart of ftone,
And laid mine honour too unchary out.
There's fomething in me, that reproves my fault;
VOL. III. N But
178 TWELFTH-NIGHT : Or,
But fuch a head-ftrong potent fault it is,
That it but mocks reproof.
Fio. With the fame 'haviour that your paflion bears,
Goes on my matter's grief.
Oli. Here, wear this jewel for me, 'tis my picture ;
ReFufe it not, it hath no tongue to vex you :
And, I befeech you, come again to-morrow.
What mall you ask of me that I'll deny,
iThat honour fav'd may upon asking give ?
Fio. Nothing but this, your true love for my
mailer.
Oil. How with mine honour may I give him that,
Which I have given to you?
Vlo. I will acquit you.
Oli. Well, come again to-morrow : fare thee well.
A fiend, like thee, might bear my foul to hell. [Exit.
SCENE XII.
Enter Sir Toby and Fabian.
Sir To. Gentleman, God fave thee.
V'w. And you, Sir.
Sir To. That defence thou haft, betake thee to't ;
of what nature the wrongs are thou haft done him, I
know not ; but thy interpreter, full of defpight,
bloody as the hunter, attends thee at the orchard-end j
difmount thy tuck, be yare in thy preparation, for
thy aflailant is quick, skilful, and deadly.
Vio. You miftake, Sirj I am fure, no man hath
any quarrel to me j my remembrance is very free and
clear from any image of offence done to any man.
Sir To. You'll find it otherwife, I affure you ; there-
fore if you hold your life at any price, betake you to
your guard j for your oppofite hath in him, what
youth, ftrength, skill, and wrath can furnilh man
withal.
What you will.
Vio. I pray you, Sir, what is he?
Sir To. He is Knight, dubb'd with unhack'd ra-
pier, and on carpet confideration ; but he is a devil
in private brawl ; fouls and bodies hath he divorc'd
three ; and his incenfemenc at this moment is fo im-
placable, that fatisfaclion can be none but by pangs of
death and fcpulcher : hob, nob, is his word ; give't,
or takc'c.
Vio. 1 will return again into the houfe, and defire
fome conduct of the lady. I am no fighter. I have
heard of fome kind of men, that put quarrels pur*
pofdy on others to tafte their valour : belike, this is
a man of that quirk.
Sir To. Sir, no : his indignation derives itfelf out of
a very competent injury ; therefore get you on, and
give him his defire. Back you mall not to the houfe,
unlefs you undertake that with me, which with as
much fafety you might anfwer him , therefore on, of
ftrip your fword ftark naked ; for meddle you muft,
that's certain, or forfwear to wear iron about you.
Vio. This is as uncivil, as ftrange. 1 befeech you,
do me this courteous office, as to know of the Knight
what my offence to him is : it is fomething of my
negligence, nothing of my purpofe.
Sir To. I will do fo. Signior Fabian, ftay you by
this gentleman 'till my return. [Exit Sir Toby.
Vio. Pray you, Sir, do you know of this matter ?
Fab. I know, the Knight is incens'd againft you,
even to a mortal arbitrement ; but nothing of the cn>
cumftance more,
Vio. I befeech you, what manner of man is he ?
Fab. Nothing of that wonderful promife to read
him by his form, as you are like to find in the proof
of his valour. He is, indeed, Sir, the moft skilful,
bloody, and fatal oppofite that you could poftibly
have found in any part of Illyria: will you walk to-
wards him ? I will make your peace with him, if I can.
N 2 Vl9,
8o TWELTTH-NlGHTtO,
Vw. I (hall be much bound to you for't : I am
one, that had rather go with Sir Prieft than Sir Knight:
I care not who knows fo much of my mettle.
[Exeunt.
SCENE XIII.
Enter Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew.
Sir To. Why, man, he's a very devil; I have not
feen fuch a virago: I had a pafs with him, rapier,
fcabbard and all ; and he gives me the (luck in with
fuch a mortal motion, that it is inevitable ; and on
the anfwer, he pays you as furely as your feet hit the
ground they ftep on. They fay, he has been fencer
to the Sophy.
Sir And. Pox on't, I'll not meddle with him.
Sir fo. Ay, but he will not now be pacified :
Fabian can fcarce hold him yonder.
Sir And. Plague on't, an I thought he had been
valiant, and fo cunning in fence, I'd have feen him
damn'd ere I'd have challeng'd him. Let him let the
matter flip, and I'll give him my horfe, grey Capilet.
Sir fo. I'll make the motion ; ftand here, make a
good Ihew on't ; This fliall end without the per-
dition of fouls i marry, I'll ride your horfe as well as
I ride you. [Afide.
Enter Fabian and Viola.
I have his horfe to take up the quarrel ; I have per-
fuaded him, the youth's a devil. [To Fabian.
Fab. He is as horribly conceited of him ; and pants
and looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels.
Sir To. There's no remedy, Sir, he will fight with
you for's oath fake: marry, he had better bethought
him of his quarrel, and he finds That now fcarce to
be worth talking of; therefore draw for the fup-
portance of his vow, he protefts he will not hurt you.
What you ay///. 181
Vio. Pray God defend me! a little thing would
make me tell them how much I lack of a man.
Fab. Give ground, if you fee him furious.
Sir To. Come, Sir Andrew, there's no remedy ; the
gentleman will for his honour's fake have one bout
with you ; he cannot by the duello avoid it ; but he
has promis'd me, as he is a gentleman and a foldier,
he will not hurt you. Come on, to't. [They draw.
Sir And. Pray God, he keep his oath !
SCENE XIV.
Enter Anthonio.
Vio. I do afiure you, 'us againft my will.
Ant. Put up your fword ; if this young gentleman
Have done offence, I take the fault on me ;
If you offend him, I for him defie you. {Drawing.
Sir To. You, Sir? Why, what are you?
Ant. One, Sir, that for his love dares yet do more
Than you have heard him brag to you he will.
Sir To. Nay, if you be an undertaker, I am for you.
[Draws.
Enter Officers.
Fab. O good Sir Toby, hold ; here come the officers.
Sir To. I'll be with you anon.
Vio. Pray, Sir, put your fword up if you pleale.
[To Sir Andrew.
Sir And. Marry, will I, Sir ; and for that I pro-
mis'd you, I'll be as good as my word. He will bear
you eafily, and reins well.
1 Off. This is the man ; do thy office.
2 Off. Anthon'W) I arreft thee at the fuit of Duke
Orfino.
Ant. You do miftake me, Sir.
i Off. No, Sir, no jot: I know your favour well i
Tho' now you have no fea-cap on your head.
N 3 Take
Tw ELFTH-NlGH T : Or,
Take him away, he knows, I know him well.
Ant. I muft obey. This comes with fceking you ;
But there's no remedy. I mail anfwer it.
What will you do ? now my neceffity
Makes me to ask you for my purfe. It grieves me
Much more, for what I cannot do for you,
Than what befals myfelf : you (land amaz'd,
But be of comfort.
2 Off Come, Sir, away.
Ant. I muft intreat of you fome of that mony.
Vio. What Mony, Sir ?
For the fair kindncfs you have fliew'd me here,
And part being prompted by your prefent trouble,
Out of my lean and low ability
1*11 lend you fomething ; my Having is not much ;
I'll make divifion of my prefent with you:
Hold, there's half my coffer.
Ant. Will you deny me now?
Is't poflible, that my deferts to you
Can lack perfuafion ? do not tempt my mifery,
Left that it make me fo unfound a man,
As to upbraid you with thofe kindnefles
That I have done for you.
Vio. I know of none,
Nor know I you by voice, or any feature :
I hate ingratitude more in a man,
Than lying, vainnefs, babling drunkennefs,
Or any taint of vice, whofe ftrong corruption
Inhabits our frail blood.
Ant. Oh, heav'ns themfelves !
2 Off. Come, Sir, I pray you, go.
Ant. Let me fpeak a little. This youth that you
fee here,
I fnatch'd one half out of the jaws of death ;
Reliev'd him with fuch fanclity of love,
And to his image, which, methought, did promife
Moft venerable worth, did I devotion.
i Off.
What you 'will.
I Off. What's that to us ? the time goes by ; away.
Ant. But oh, how vile an idol proves this God !
Thou haft, Sebaftian^ done good feature fliame.
In nature there's no blemilh but the mind:
None can be calPd defbrm'd, but the unkind.
Virtue is beauty ; but the beauteous evil
Are empty trunks, o'erfiourifh'd by the devil.
i Off. The man grows mad, away with him :
Come, come, Sir.
Ant. Lead me on. [Exit Anthonio with Officers.
Via, Methinks, his words do from fuch paffion fly,
That he believes himfelf ; fo do not I :
Prove true, imagination, oh, prove true,
That I, dear brother, be now ta'en for you !
Sir To. Come hither, Knight , come hither, Fabian ,
we'll whifper o'er a couplet or two of moil fage faws.
Vio. He nam'd Sebaftian ; I my brother know
Yet Jiving in my glafs ; even fuch, and fo
In favour was my brother ; and he went
Still in this fafliion, colour, ornament ;
For him I imitate : oh, if it prove,
Tempefts are kind, and fait waves frem in love.
[Exit.
Sir To. A very difhonefl paltry boy, and more a
coward than a hare ; his dimonefty appears in leaving
his friend here in neceflity, and denying him ; and
for his cowardfhip, ask Fabian.
Fab. A coward, a moft devout coward, religious
in it.
Sir And. 'Slid, I'll after him again, and beat him.
Sir To. Do, cuff him foundly, but never draw thy
fword.
Sir And. An I do not,' [Exit Sir Andrew,
Fab. Come, let's fee the event.
Sir To. I dare lay any mony, 'twill be nothing yet.
[Exeunt.
N 4 ACT
TwELPTH-NlGHT : Or,
A C T IV. SCENE I.
T'be STREET.
Enter Sebaftian, and Clown.
CLOWN.
WILL you make me believe, that I am not
fcnt for you-?
Seb. Go to, go to, thou art a foolilh fellow. Let
n.c r>e clear of thee.
Co. Well held out, i'faith : no, I do not know
you, nor I am not fent to you by my Lady, to bid
you come fpeak with her ; nor your name is not ma-
tter Cejario, nor this is not my nofe neither ; nothing,
that is fo, is fo.
Seb. I pr'ythee, vent thy folly fomewhere elfe;
thou know 'ft not me.
Clo. Vent my folly ! he has heard that word of
fome great man, and now applies it to a fool. Vent
my folly! I am afraid, this great lubber the world
will prove a cockney: I pr'ythee now, ungird thy
ftrangenefs and tell me what 1 (hall vent to my Lady ;
(hall I vent to her, that thou art coming?
Seb. l I pr'ythee, fooliih Greek, depart from me ;
there's mony for thee. If you tarry longer, I mail
give worfe payment.
Clo. By my troth, thou haft an open hand ; thefe
r 1 pr'ytbee, foolt/b Greek,] Greek, was as much as to fay Bawd
or Pander. He underftood the Clown to be afting in that office.
A bawdy- houfe was called Corinth, and the frequenters of it Co-
rinthiam, which words occur frequently in Shakefpear, efpecially
in Timon of Athens, and Henry I Vth. See the reafon in a note on
the former of thofe plays: Yet the Oxford Editor alters it to
Gtck.
wife
you <u;/7/. 185
wife men, that give fools mony, * get themfelves a
good report after fourteen years' purchafe.
Enter Sir Andrew, Sir Toby, and Fabian.
Sir And. Now, Sir, have I met you again ? there's
for you. [Str iking Sebaftian.
Seb. Why, there's for thee, and there, and there ;
are all the people mad ? [Beating Sir Andrew.
Sir 70. Hold, Sir, or I'll throw your dagger o'er
the houfc.
Go. This will I tell my Lady ftraight : I would not
be in fome of your coats for two pence.
\_Exit Clown.
Sir To. Come on, Sir ; hold. [Holding Sebaftian.
Sir And. Nay, let him alone, I'll go another way
to work with him 5 I'll have an action of battery
againft him, if there be any law in Illyria ; tho' I
ftruck him firft, yet it's no matter for that.
Seb. Let go thy hand.
Sir To. Come Sir, I will not let you go. Come,
my young foldier, put up your iron 5 you are well
flefh'd : come on.
Seb. I will be free from thee. What wouldft thou
now?
Jf thou dar'ft tempt me further, draw thy fword.
Sir To. What, what ? nay, then, I muft have an
ounce or two of this' malapert blood from you.
[They draw and fight.
2 get themfel<ves a good report after fourteen years 1 pur chafe.]
This Teems to carry a piece of fatire upon Monopolies, the crying
grievance of that time. The Grants generally were for fourteen
years ; and the petitions being referred to a committee, it was fuf-
pcfted that money gained favourable reports from thence.
SCENE
i86 TWELFTH-NIGHT: Or,
SCENE II.
Enter Olivia.
Oli. Hold, Tofy , on thy life, I charge thee, hold.
Sir To. Madam ?
OIL Will it be ever thus? ungracious wretch,
Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves,
Where manners ne'er were preach'd : out of my fight!
Be not offended, dear Cefario : *
Rudesby, be gone! I pr'ythee, gentle friend,
\_Exeunt Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew.
Let thy fair wifdom, not thy paffion, fway
In this uncivil and unjuft extent
Againft thy peace. Go with me to my houfe,
And hear thou there, how many fruitlefs pranks
3 This ruffian hath botch'd up, that thou thereby
May'fl fmile at this : thou fhalt not chufe but go :
Do not deny ; beflirew his foul for me,
He darted one poor heart of mine in thee.
Seb. What relim is in this ? how runs the ftream ?
Or I am mad, or elfe this is a dream.
Let fancy dill my fenfe in Lethe fteep,
If it be thus to dream, ftill let me fleep.
OIL Nay, come, I pray : 'would, thou'dft be rul'd
by me.
Seb. Madam, I will.
OIL O, fay fo, and fo be! [Exeunt.
3 Thi$ ruffian hath botch'd up, ] /'. e. fwelled and inflamed.
A botch being a fwelling or abfcefs.
SCENE
you 'will.
SCENE III.
An Apartment In Olivia'.? Houfe.
Enter Maria, and Clown.
Afor.'VTAY, I pr'ythee, put on this gown, and
JLN this beard ; make him believe, thou art
Sir Topas the curate j do it quickly. 1*11 call Sir Tofa
the whilft. [Exit Maria.
Clo. Well, I'll put it on, and I will diffcmble my-
felf in'tj and I would, I were the firft that ever dif-
fembled in fuch a gown. I am not tall enough to
become the function well, nor lean enough to be
thought a good ftudent ; but to be faid an honefl
man, and a good houfekeeper, goes as fairly, 4 as to
fay, a graceful man and a great fcholar. The com-
petitors enter.
Enter Sir Toby, and Maria.
Sir To. Jove blefs thee, Mr. Parfon.
Clo. Bonos diet) Sir Toby ; " for as the old hermit
" of Prague^ that never faw pen and ink, s very wit-
" tily faid to a neice of King Gorboduck^ that that is,
" is: fo I being Mr. P?.rfon, am Mr. Parfon; for
" what is that, but that? and is, but is?
Sir fo. To him, Sir Zopas.
4 as to fay, a CAREFUL man and a great fcholar. ~\ This refers
to what went before, I am not tall enough to become thefunflion
nuell, nor lean enough to be thought a good Jludent ; it is plain then
that Shake/pear wrote, as to fay a GRACEFUL man, i, e. comely.
To this the Oxford Editor lays, reSe.
5 very wittily faid that that is, is:'] This is a very hu-
mourgus banter of the rules eftablilhed in the fchools, that all rea-
fonings are ex pr^cognitis & presconeejjis, which lay the foundation
of every fcience in thefe maxims, -whatfofver is, is; and it is im-
pojjihle for the fame thing to be and not to be ; with much trifling of
the like kind.
Clo.
TWELFTH-NIGHT : O,
Clo. What, hoa, I fay, peace in this prifon !
Sir -To. The knave counterfeits well ; a good knave.
[Malvolio within.
Mai. Who calls there?
Clo. Sir Topas the curate, who comes to viftt Mal-
volio the lunatick.
Mai. Sir Topas 9 Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to
my lady.
do. Out, hyperbolical fiend, how vexed thou this
man ?
Talked thou of nothing but ladies ?
Sir To. Well faid, mafter Parfon.
Mai. Sir Topas, never was man thus wrong'd ; good
Sir Topas , do not think I am mad ; they have laid
me here in hideous darknefs.
Clo. Fie, thou didioned fathan ; I call thee by the
moil modeft terms j for I am one of thofe gentle
ones, that will ufe the devil himfelf with curtefie :
fay'ft thou, that houfe is dark ?
Mai. As hell, Sir Topas.
Clo. Why, it hath bay-windows tranfparent as ba-
ricadoes, and the clear ftones towards the fouth-north
are as luftrous as ebony i and yet complained thou
of obftruftion ?
MaL I am not mad, Sir Topas ; I fay to you, this
houfe is dark.
Clo. Madman, thou erred ; I fay, there is no dark-
nefs but ignorance ; in which thou art more puzzled
than the Egyptians in their fog.
Mai. I fay, this houfe is as dark as ignorance,
though ignorance were as dark as hell ; and I fay,
there was never man thus abus'd , I am no more mad
than you are, make the tryal of it in any condant
quedion.
Clo. What is the opinion of Pythagoras^ concern-
ing wild-fowl ?
MaL
you
Mai. That the foul of our grandam might happily
inhabit a bird.
Clo. What think'ft thou of his opinion ?
Mai. I think nobly of the foul, and no way ap-
prove of his opinion.
Clo. Fare thee well : remain thou ftill in darknefs ;
thou malt hold th* opinion of Pythagoras, ere I will
allow of thy wits ; and fear to kill a woodcock,
left thou difpoflefs the foul of thy grandam. Fare thee
well.
Mai. Sir Topas, Sir Topas !
Sir To. My moft exquifite Sir Jopas !
Clo. 6 Nay, I am for all waters.
Mar. Thou might'ft have done this without thy
beard and gown ; he fees thee not.
Sir To. To him in thine own voice, and bring me
word how thou find'fl him: I would, we were all
rid of this knavery. If he may be conveniently de-
liver'd, I would, he were ; for I am now fo far in
offence with my neice, that I cannot purfue with any
fafety this fport to the upfliot. Come by and by to
my chamber. [Exit with Maria,
SCENE IV.
Clo. Hey Robin, jolly Robin, tell me bow my lady
does. [Singing,
Mai Fool,
Clo. My lady is unkind, perdie.
Mai. Fool,
Clo. Alas, whyisjhefo?
Mai. Fool, I fay ;
Clo. She loves another who calls, ha ?
6 Nay, 1 am for all waters.] A phrafe taken from the a&or's
ability of making the audience cry either with mirth or grief.
Mai
TwELFTH-NlG HT : Of,
Mai. Good fool, as ever thou wilt deferve well at
my hand, help me to a candle, and pen, ink, and
paper ; as I am a gentleman, 1 will live to be thank-
ful to thee for't.
Clo. Mr. Mafoolio!
Mai. Ay, good fool.
Clo. Alas, Sir, how fell you befides your five
wits?
Mai. Fool, there was never man fo notorioufly
abus'd ; I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art.
Clo. But as well ! then thou art mad, indeed, if you
be no better in your wits than a fool.
Mai. They have here propertied me ; keep me in
darknefs, fend minifters to me, affes, and do all they
can to face me out of my wits.
Clo. Advife you what you fay : the minifter is here.
Malvolio, Malvolio, thy wits the heav'ns reftore : en-
deavour thyfelf to fleep, and leave thy vain bibblc
babble.
Mai. Sir fopas,
Clo. Maintain no words with him, good fellow.
Who, I, Sir? not I, Sir. God b'w'you, good Sir
fypas
Marry, amen 1 will, Sir, I will.
Mai. Fool, fool, fool, I fay.
Clo. Alas, Sir, be patient. What fay you, Sir ? I
am Ihent for fpeaking to you.
Mai. Good fool, help me to fome light, and fome
paper; I tell thee, I am as well in my wits, as any
man in Illyria.
Clo. Well-a-day, that you were, Sir!
Mai. By this hand, I am : good fool, fome ink,
paper and light ; and convey what I fet down to my
Lady : It fhall advantage thee more than ever the
bearing of letter did.
Clo. I will help you to't. But tell me true, arc
you not mad, indeed, or do you but counterfeit ?
Mai.
What you will.
Mai. Believe me, I am not : I tell thee true.
Clo. Nay, I'll ne'er believe a mad-man, 'till I fee
his brains. I will fetch you light, and paper, and ink.
Mai. Fool, I'll requite it in the higheft degree ;
I pr'ythee, be gone.
Clo. / am gone, Sir, and anon. Sir, [Singing.
I'll be with you again
In a trice, like to the old vice,
Tour need to fuftain :
Who with dagger of lath, in his rage, and his wrath %
Cries, ah, ha ! to the devil:
Like a mad lad, fare thy nails, dad t
Adisu, good man drivel. [Exit*
SCENE V.
Changes to another Apartment in Olivia'.? Houfe.
Enter Sebaftian.
Seb. r "p H I S is the air, that is the glorious fun ;
A This pearl me gave me, I do feel't and fcs'c.
And though 'tis wonder that enwraps me thus,
Yet 'tis not madnefs. Where's Anthonio then ?
I could not find him at the Elephant ;
Yet there he was, and there 7 1 found this credit,
That he did range the town to feek me out.
His counfel now might do me golden lervice ;
For tho' my foul dilputes well with my fenfe,
That this may be fome error, but no madnefs ;
Yet doth this accident and flood of fortune
So far exceed 8 all inftance, all difcourfe;
7 1 found this credit,] Credit, for account, information.
The Oxford Editor roundly alters it to current ; as he does almoft
every word that Sbakefpear ufcs in an anomalous /ignification.
8 all inftance, all difcourfe ;] Inftance, forlenfe; difcourfe,
for reafoji.
That
192 TWELFTH-NIGHT: Or,
That I am ready to diftrufl mine eyes,
And wrangle with my reafon that perfuades me
To any other truft, but that I'm mad ;
Or elfe the Lady's mad ; yet if 'twere fo,
She could not fway her houfe, command her followers.
Take, and give back affairs, and their difpatch,
With fuch a fmooth, difcreet, and ftable bearing,
As, I perceive, me does : there's fomething in't,
That is deceivable. But here fhe comes.
Enter Olivia and Priefl.
Oli. Blame not this hafte of mine : if you mean
well,
Now go with me, and with this holy man,
Into the chantry by j there before him,
And underneath that confecrated roof,
Plight me the full affurance of your faith ;
That my moft jealous and too doubtful foul
May live at peace. He {hall conceal it,
Whiles you are willing it fliall come to note j
What time we will our celebration keep
According to my birth. What do you fay ?
Seb. I'll follow this good man, and go with you j
And having fworn truth, ever will be true.
OK. Then lead the way, good father 5 and heav'ns,
fo mine,
That they may fairly note this aft of mine !
[Exeunt,
ACT
What you 'will. j g 3
ACT V. SCENE I.
The S T R E E T.
Enter Clown, and Fabian.
FABIAN.
NO W, as thou lov'ft me, Jet me fee his letter.
Clo. Good Mr. Fabian, grant me another
requeft.
Fab. Any thing.
Clo. Do not defire to fee this letter.
Fab. This is to give a dbg, and in recompence de-
fire my dog again.
Enter Duke, Viola, Curio, and lords.
Duke. Belong you to the lady Olivia, friends ?
Clo. Ay, Sir, we are fome of her trappings.
Duke. 1 know thee well ; how doft thou, my good
fellow ?
Clo. Truly, Sir, the better for my foes, and the
worfe for my friends.
Duke. Juft the contrary , the better for thy friends.
Clo. No, Sir, the worfe.
Duke. How can that be ?
Clo. Marry, Sir, they praife me, and make an afs
of me ; now, my foes tell me plainly, I am an afs :
ib that by my foes, Sir, I profit in the knowledge of
myfelf; and by my friends lamabufed: * fo that,
con-
i fo that conclu/ions to be as kifles, ] Tho' it might be unrea-
fonable to call our Poet's fools and knaves every where to account;
yet, if we did, for the generality, we mould find them refponuble.
But what monllrous abfurdity have we here ? the Clown is affeft-
ing to argue ferioufly and in form. 1 imagine> the Poet wrote;
89 that, conclujion to be asked, is
VOL. III. O it.
TWELFTH-NIGHT: Or,
conclufion to be asked, is, if your four negatives make
your two affirmatives, why, then the worfe for my
friends, and the better for my foes.
Duke. Why, this is excellent.
Clo. By my troth, Sir, no ; tho' it pleafe you to
be one of my friends.
Duke. Thou malt not be the worfe for me, there's
gold.
Clo. But that it would be double-dealing, Sir, I
would, you could make it another.
Duke O, you give me ill counfel.
Clo. jfut your grace in your pocket, Sir, for this
once, and let your fiefh and blood obey it.
Duke. Well, J will be fo much afinner to be a dou-
ble-dealer : there's another.
Clo. PriinO) fecundo, tertio, is a good Play, and the
old faying is, the third pays for all : the triplex, Sir,
is a good tripping mtafure i or the bells of St. Btnnct,
Sir, may put you in mind, one, two, three.
Duke. You can fool no more money out of me at this
throw; if you will let your Lady know, I am here
to fpeak with her, and bring her along with you, it
may awake my bounty further.
Clo. Marry, Sir, lullaby to your bounty 'till I come
again. I go, Sir, but I would not have you to think,
that my defire of having is the Tin of covetoufnefs ;
but, as you fay, Sir, let your bounty takea nap, and I
will awake it anon. [Exit Clown.
SCENE II,
Enter Antonio, and Officers.
Vio. Here comes the man, Sir, that did refcue me.
/. /. fo that the conclufion I have to demand of you is this, if your
tour, fcfr. He had in the preceding words been inferring iome
premifes, and new comes to the conclufion very logically ; you grant
me, fayi he, the premifes j I now ask you to grant the conclufion.
ou
Duke. That face of his I do remember well $
Yet when I faw it laft, it was befmear'd
As black as Vulcan^ in the fmoak of war :
A bawbling veflel was he captain of,
For lhallow draught and bulk unprizable,
With which fuch icathful grapple did he make
With the moft noble bottom of our fleet,
That very envy and the tongue of lofs
Cry'd fame and honour on him. What's the matter ?
i Offi. Orjino, this is that Antonio ^
That took the Phcenix and her fraught from Candy 5
And this is he, that did the Tyger board,
When your young nephew Titus loft his leg :
Here in the ftreets, defperate of fharne and ftate,
In private brabble did we apprehend him.
rio. He did me kindnefs, Sir j drew on my fide j
But in conclufion put ftrange fpeech upon me,
I know not what 'twas, but diftradtion.
Duke. Notable pirate ! thou fait- water thief!
What foolifh boldnefs brought thee to their mercies,
Whom thou in terms fo bloody, and fo dear,
Haft made thine enemies ?
Ant. Orjino, noble Sir,
Be pleafed that I (hake offthefe names you give me;
Antonio never yet was thief, or pirate ;
Though I confefs, on bafe and ground enough,
Orjino^s enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither :
That moft ungrateful boy there, by your fide,
From the rude fea's enrag'd and foamy mouth
Did I redeem i a wreck pad hope he was :
His life I gave him, and did thereto add
My love without retention or reftraint ,
All his in dedication. For his fake,
Did I expofe myielf (pure, for his love)
Into the danger of this adverfe town ;
Drew to defend him, when he was befet ;
Where being apprehended, his falfc cunning
O 2 (Net
196 TWELFTH-NIGHT: Or,
(Not meaning to partake with me in danger)
Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance ;
And grew a twenty years removed thing,
While one would wink : deny'd me mine own purfe,
Which I had recommended to his ufe
Not half an hour before.
Vw. How can this be ?
Duke. When came he to this town ?
Ant. Today, my lord ; and for three months before,
(No Interim, not a minute's vacancy,)
Both day and night did we keep company.
SCENE III.
Enter Olivia, and Attendants.
Duke. Here comes the countefs ; now heav'n walks
on earth.
But for thee, fellow, fellow, thy words are madnefs :
Three months this youth hath tended upon me ;
But more of that anon Take him afide.
Oh. What would my lord, but that he may not have,
Wherein Olivia may feem ferviceable ?
Cefarioy you do not keep promife with me.
Pio. Madam !
Duke. Gracious Olivia,
OH. What do you fay, Cefario ? Good my lord
Vio. My lord would fpeak, my duty hufhes me.
OH. If it be aught to the old tune, my lord,
It is as * fiat and fulfome to mine ear,
As howling after muikk.
Duke. Still fo cruel ?
Oli. Still fo conftant, lord.
Duke. What, to perverfenefs ? you uncivil lady,
To whofe ingrate and unaufpicious altars
2 at FAT andfulfomi} We ftiould read, at FLAT.
My
What you ow7/. 197
My foul the faithfull'ft offerings has breath *d out,
That e'er devotion tender'd. What fhall I do?
Oil. Ev'n what itpleafe my lord, that fhalJ become
him.
Duke. Why mould I not, had I the heart to do't,
J Like to th' Egyptian thief, at point of death
Kill what I love? (a favage jealoufie,
That fometimes favours nobly ;) but hear me this:
Since you to non-regardance caft my faith,
And that I partly know the inftrument,
That fcrews me from my true place in your favour :
Live you the marble- breafted tyrant ftill.
But this your minion, whom, I know, you love,
And whom, by heav'n, I fwear, I tender dearly,
Him will I tear out of that cruel eye,
Where he fits crowned in his matter's fpight.
Come, boy, with me 5 my thoughts are ripe in mif-
chief :
I'll facrifice the lamb that I do Jove,
To fpight a raven's heart within a dove. [Duke going.
Vio. And I mod jocund, apt, and willingly,
To do you reft, a thoufand deaths would die. [following.
OIL Where goes Cefario ?
Vio. After him I love,
More than I love thefe eyes, more than my life j
More, by all mores, than e'er I fhall love wife.
If I do feign, you witnefles above
Punifh my life, for tainting of my love !
OH. Ay me, detefted ! how am I beguil'd ?
Pio. Who does beguile you ? who does do you wrong r
Oli. Haft thou forgot thy felf ? Is it fo long ?
Call forth the holy father.
Duke. Come, away. [To Viola.
OH. W T hither, my lord ? Cefario, husband, flay.
3 Like to th" Egyptian thief, ] This E^jf'lian thief was 1%ya-
m'ti. See Heltodoruii's jEthiopics. Mr. Theobald.
O 3 Duke.
PtH-NiGHT: Or,
Duke. Husband ?
Oli. Ay, husband. Can he that deny ?
JM<?. Her husband, firrah ?
/'w. No, my lord, not 1.
Oli. Alas, it is the bafenefs of thy fear,
That makes thee ftrangle thy propriety :
Fear not, Cefario, take thy fortunes up :
Be that, thou know'ft, thou art, and then thou art
AS great, as that thou fear'ft.
Enter Prieft,
welcome, father.
Father, I charge thee by thy reverence
Here to unfold, (tho* lately we intended
To keep in darknefs, what occafion now
Reveals before 'tis ripe) what, thou doft know,
Hath newly pad between this youth and me.
Prieft. A contract of eternal bond of love,
Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands,
Attefted by the holy clofe of lips,
Strengthened by enterchangement of your rings ;
And all the ceremony of this compact
Seal'd in my function, by my testimony :
Since when, my watch hath told me, tow'rd my grave
1 have travel! *d but two hours.
Duke. O thou diffembling cub! what wilt thou be,
When time hath fow'd a grizzel on thy cafe ?
Or will not clfe thy craft fo quickly grow,
That thine own trip (hall be thine overthrow ?
Farewel, and take her ; but direct thy feet,
Where t hou and I henceforth may never meet.
Via. My lord, I do proteft
Oil. O, do not fwear \
Hold little faith, tho' thou haft too much fear !
SCENE
What you will. 1 99
SCENE IV.
Enter Sir Andrew, with bis bead broke.
Sir And. For the Jove of God a furgeon> and fend
one prefently to Sir Toby.
Oli. What's the matter ?
Sir And. H'as broke my head a-crofs, and given
Sir Toby a bloody coxcomb too : for the Jove of God,
your help. I had rather than forty pound, I were at
home.
Oli. Who has done this, Sir Andrew ?
Sir And. The count's gentleman, one Cefario ; we
tools him for a coward, but he's the very devil incar-
dinate.
Duke. My gentleman, Cefario ?
Sir And. Od's lifelings, here he is : you broke my
head for nothing ; and that that I did, I was fet on to
do't by Sir Toby.
Vio. Why do you fpeak to me ? I never hurt you :
You drew your fword upon me, without caufe;
But I befpake you fair, and hurt you not.
Enter Sir Toby, and Clown.
Sir And. If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have
hurt me : I think, you fet nothing by a bloody cox-
comb. Here comes Sir Toby halting, you (hall hear
more , but if he had not been in drink, he would have
tickled you other-gates than he did.
Duke. How now, gentleman? how is't with you?
Sir To. That's all one, he has hurt me, and there's
an end on*t ; fot, didft fee Dick Surgeon, fot ?
Clo. O he's drunk, Sir Toby, above an hour agone ;
his eyes were fet at eight i'th* morning.
Sir To. Then he's a rogue, and a paft-meafure Painim*
I hate a drunken rogue.
O 4 0! <>
200 TWELFTH-NIGHT: Or,
OK. Away with him : who hath made this havock
with them ?
Sir And. I'll help you, Sir 7%, becaufe we'll be
dreft together.
Sir !70. Will you help an aft- head, and a coxcomb,
and a knave, a thin-fac'd knave, a gull ?
[Exeunt Clo. To. and And,
OU. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to.
SCENE V.
Enter Sebaflian.
Seb. I am forry, Madam, I have hurt your kinfmam :
But had it been the brother of my blood,
I muft have done no lefs with wit and fafety.
\_Allftand in amaze.
You throw a ftrange regard on me, by which,
I do perceive, it hath offended you ;
Pardon me, fweet one, even for the vows
We made each other, but fo late ago.
Duke. One face, one voice, one habit, and two
perfons ;
A nat'ral perfpeclive, that is, and is not!
Seb. Antonio, O my dear Antonio !
How have the hours rack'd and tortur'd me,
Since I have loft thee ?
Ant. Sebaflian are you ?
Seb. Fear 'ft thou that, Antonio !
Ant. How have you made divifion of your felf ?
An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin
Then thefe two creatures. Which is Sebaftian ?
OH. Moft wonderful !
Seb. Do I ftand there ? I never had a brother
Nor can there be that deity in my nature,
Of here and every where. I had a fifter,
Whom the blind waves and furges have devour'd :
Of
What yon 'will. 20 r
Of charity, what kin are you to me ? [To Viola.
What countryman ? what name ? what parentage ?
Vw. Of Meffaline ; Sebaftian was my father ;
Such a Sebaftian was my brother too :
So went he fuited to his wat'ry tomb.
If fpirits can affume both form and fuit,
You come to fright us.
Seb. A fpirit I am, indeed ;
But am in that dimenfion grofsly clad,
Which from the womb I did participate.
Were you a woman, as the reft goes even,
I (hould my tears let fall upon your cheek,
And fay, " Thrice welcome, drowned Viola !
Vio. My father had a mole upon his brow.
Seb. And fo had mine.
Vio. And dy'd that day, when Viola from her birth
Had numbred thirteen years.
Seb. O, that record is lively in my foul ;
He finiftied, indeed, his mortal acl,
That day that made my fifter thirteen years.
Vio. If nothing lets to make us happy both,
But this my mafculine ufurp'd attire ;
Do not embrace me, 'till each circumftance
Of place, time, fortune, do cohere and jump,
That I am Viola ; which to confirm,
I'll bring you to a captain in this town
Where lye my maids weeds , by whofe gentle help
I was preferv'd to ferve this noble Duke.
All the occurrence of my fortune fince
Hath been between this Lady, and this Lord.
Seb. So comes it, Lady, you have been miftook :
[20 Olivia.
But nature to her bias drew in that.
You would have been contracted to a maid,
Nor are you therein, by my life, deceiv'd ;
You are betroth'd both to a maid, and man.
Duke,
TWELFTH-NIGHT: Or,
Duke. Be not amaz'd : right-noble is his blood .
If this be fo, as yet the glafs feems true,
I fhall have {hare in this moft happy wreck.
Boy, thou haft faid to me a thoufand times, [To Vie.
Thou never fhould'ft love woman like to me.
Vio. And all thofefayings will I over-fwear,
And all thofe fwearings keep as true in foul ;
As doth that orbed continent the fire,
That fevers day from night.
Duke. Give me thy hand,
And let me fee thee in thy woman's weeds.
Vio. The captain, that did bring me firft on (hore.
Hath my maids garments : he upon fome action
Is now in durance, at Malvolio's fuit,
A gentleman and follower of my lady's.
Oli. He fhall enlarge him : fetch Maholio hither.
And yet, alas, now I remember me,
They fay, poor gentleman ! he's much diffract.
SCENE VI.
Enter the Clown with a letter^ and Fabian.
4 A moft extracting frertey of mine own
From my remembrance clearly banifh'd his.
How does he, firrah ?
Clo. Truly, Madam, he holds Belzebub at the ftave's
end, as well as a man in his cafe may do : h'as here
writ a letter to you, I fhould have given't you to day
morning. But as a mad-man's epiftles are no gofpels,
fo it skills not much, when they are deliver'd.
OIL Open't, and read it.
Clo. Look then, to be well edify'd, when the fool
delivers the mad-man By the Lord, Madam,
[Reads.
4 A >3/? ex trailing frenzy ] i. e. A frenzy that drew me away
from everything but icsown objeft.
OH.
What you ow//.
OIL How now, art mad ?
Clo. No, Madam, I do but read madnefs : an your
Ladyfhip will have it as it ought to be, you mult al-
low Vox.
OIL Pr'ythee, read it, i'thy right wits.
Clo. Sol do, Madona ; but to read his right wits,
is to read thus : therefore perpend, my princefs, and
give ear.
OIL Read it you, firrah. [To Fabian.
Fab. [[Reads, j By the Lord^ Madam^ you wrong
we^ and the world Jhall know it : though you have -put
me into darknefs, and given your drunken Uncle rule
over me, yet have I the benefit of my fenfes as well as
your Lady/hip. I have your own Letter \ that induced
me to the femblance I put on ; with the which 1 doubt
not, but to do my f elf much right ^ or you much Jhame :
think of mt 9 as you pleafe : 1 leave my duty a little un-
th ought of, and f peak out of my injury.
The madly us'd Malvolio.
OH. Did he write this ?
Clo. Ay, Madam.
Duke* This favours not much of diftraftion.
OIL See him deliver'd, Fabian -, bring him hither.
My Lord, fo pleafe you, thefe things further thought on,
To think me as well a fifter, as a wife ;
One day fhall crown th* alliance on't, fo pleafe you,
Here at my houfe, and at my proper cod.
Duke. Madam, I am moft apt t'embrace your offer.
Your matter quits you ; and for your fervice done him,
So much againft the metal of your fex, [To Viola.
So far beneath your foft and tender breeding *,
(And fince you call'd me matter for fo long,)
Here is my hand, you fhall from this time be
Your matter's miftrefs.
Oli. A fifter, you are me.
S GENE
TWELFTH- NIG HT: Or,
SCENE VII.
Enter MalvoJio.
Duke. Is this the mad-man ?
Oli, Ay, my Lord, this fame ; how now, Maholio?
MaL Madam, you have done me wrong, notorious
wrong.
OR. Have I , Maholio ? no.
Mai. Lady, you have ; pray you, perufethat Letter.
You mud not now deny it is your hand.
Write from it if you can, in hand or phrafe j
Or fay, 'tis not your feal, nor your invention ;
You can fay none of this. Well, grant it then ;
And tell me in the modefty of honour,
Why you have given mefuch clear lights of favour,
Bad me come fmiling, and crofs-garter'd to you,
To put on yellow {lockings, and to frown
Upon Sir Toby, and the lighter people :
And acting this in an obedient hope,
Why have you fuffer'd me to be imprifon'd,
Kept in a dark houfe, vifited by the prieft,
And made the moft notorious geek, and gull,
That e'er invention plaid on ? tell me, why ?
Oli. Alas, Maholio, this is not my writing,
Tho', I confefs, much like the character :
But, out of queftion, 'tis Maria's hand.
And now I do bethink me, it was fhe
Firft told me, thou waft mad 5 then cam'ft thou
fmiling,
And in fuch forms which s here were prefuppos'd
Upon thee in the letter : pr'ythee, be content ;
This practice hath moft flirewdly paft upon thee ;
But when we know the grounds, and authors of it,
5 here were prefuppos'd] Prtfuppotd, for impofed.
Thou
What you oi>/7/.
Thou flialt be both the plaintiff and the judge
Of thine own caufe.
Fab. Good Madam, hear me fpeak ;
And let no quarrel, nor no brawl to come,
Taint the condition of this prefent hour
Which I have wondred at. In hope it (hall not,
Moft freely I confefs, myfelf and Sir foby
Set this device againft Maholio here,
Upon fome ftubborn and uncourteous parts
We had conceiv'd againft him. Maria writ
The letter, at Sir Tobfs great importance -,
In recompence whereof, he hath married her.
How with a fportful malice it was follow'd,
May rather pluck on laughter than revenge ,
If that the injuries be juftly weigh'd,
That have on both fides paft.
OH. Alas, poor fool ! how have they baffled thee ?
Clo. Why, fome are born great^ fome atchieve great-
nefS) and fome lave greatneft thruft upon them. \ was
one, Sir, in this interlude ; one Sir fopas, Sir; but
that's all one : by the Lord,fool^ I am not mad\ but
do you remember, Madam, why laugh you at fucb
a barren rafcal ? an you fmile not, he's gagg'd : and
thus the whirl-gigg ot time brings in his revenges.
Mai. 1*11 be reveng'd on the whole pack of you.
[Exit.
OIL He hath been moft notorioufly abus'd.
Duke. Purfue him, and intreat him to a peace:
He hath not told us of the captain yet ;
When that is known, and golden time convents,
A folemn combination (hall be made
Of our dear fouls. Mean time, fweet filter,
We will not part from hence. Cefario, come i
(For fo you (hall be, while you are a man ;)
But when in other habits you are feen,
Orfwo's miftrefs, and his fancy's Queen. [Exeunt.
Clown
2C>6 TwELfTH-NlGHT, &C.
Clown fings.
6 When that I was a little tiny boy^
With bey, bo, the wind and the rain :
Afoolijh thing was but a toy y
For the rain it raineth every day.
But when I came to man's eft ate,
With hey, ho, &c.
'Gainft knaves and thieves men Jhut their gate,
For the rain, &c.
But when I came, alas ! to wive,
With hey, ho, &c.
Byfwaggering could I never thrive,
For the rain, &c.
But when I came unto my beds.
With hey, ho, d :.
With tofs-pots ftill had drunken heads^
For the rain, &c.
A great while ago the v. wld begun,
With hey, ho, &c.
But thafs all one, our play is done ;
And we'llftrive to pleafe you every day. [Exit.
6 When that I was, &c.] This wretched fluff not Sbakefpear's,
but the Players !
THE
THE
COMEDY
O F
ERRORS.
DRAMATIS PERSONM.
S A L I N U S, Duke of Ephefus.
jfEgeon, a Merchant 0/Syracufe.
/ T- L r 1 fwin-Brotbers, and Sons to
Antipholis of Ephefus, / _ j , _ ... ,
A L r fc r f ^Egeon ^J Emilia, but
Antipholis of Syracufc, \
] unknown to each other.
Dromio of Ephefus, ^ Twin- Brother -5, and Slaves to tie
Dromio of Syracufe, ] two Antipholis'j.
Balthazar, a Merchant.
Angelo, a Goldfmlth.
A Merchant^ Friend to Antipholis 0/Syracufe.
Dr. Pinch, a School-wafer, and a Conjurer.
Emilia, Wife to JEgeon, anAbbefs at Ephefus.
Adriana, Wife to Antipholis of Ephefus.
Luciana, Sifter to Adriana.
Luce, Servant to Adriana.
Jailor, Officers, and other Attendants.
SCENE, Ephefus.
THE
THE
COMEDY of ERRORS.
ACT I. SCENE I.
<fl>e Duke's Palace.
Enter the Duke of Ephefus, Pigeon, Jailor ^ and
other Attendants.
JE G E O N.
ROCKED, Salinus* to procure my fall,
And by the doom of death end woes and all.
Duke. Merchant of Syracufe^ plead no
more;
I am not partial to infringe our laws :
The enmity, and difcord, which of late
Sprung from the ranc'rous outrage of your Duke,
To merchants, our well-dealing countrymen,
(Who, wanting gilders to redeem their lives,
Have leal'd his rigorous ftatutes with their bloods)
Excludes all pity from our threatning looks.
For, fince the mortal and inteftine jars
'Twixt thy feditious countrymen and us,
It hath in folemn fynods been decreed,
VOL. III. P Both
2io The Comedy of E RRORS.
Both by the Syracufam and ourfelves,
T'admit no traffick to our adverfe towns.
Nay, more ; if any born at Epbefus
Be feen at Syracufan marts and fairs,
Again, if any Syracufan born
Come to the bay of Ephefus, he dies :
His goods confifcate to the Duke's difpofe,
Unlels a thoufand marks be levied
To quit the penalty, and ranfom him.
Thy fubftance, valu'd at the higheft rate,
Cannot amount unto a hundred marks ;
Therefore, by law thou art condemn'd to die.
&geon. Yet this my comfort, when your words are
done,
My woes end likewife with the evening fun.
Duke. Well, Syracufan, fay, in brief, the caufe,
Why thou departed'ft from thy native homej
And for what caufe thou cam'ft to Epbefus.
JEgeon. A heavier task could not have been impos'dj
Than I to fpeak my grief unfpeakable :
Yet that the world may witnefs, that my end
1 Was wrought by nature, not by vile offence,
I'll utter what my forrow gives me leave.
In Syracufa was I born, and wed
Unto a woman, happy but for me ;
And by me too, had not our hap been bad :
With her 1 liv'd in joy , our wealth increas'd,
I Was wrought by nature, not by vile offence,] All his hearers
underftcod that the punifljment he was about to undergo was in
confequence of no private crime, but of the publick enmity be-
tween two ftates, to one of which he belonged : But it was a general
fuperftition amongft the ancients, that every great and fudden mif-
fortune was the vengeance of heaven purfuing men for their fecret
offences. Hence the fentiment here put into the mouth of the
fpeaker was proper. By my pall life, (fays he) which I am going
to relate, the world may underftand that my prefent death is ac-
cording to the ordinary courfe of providence, [wrought by nature}
and not the efFc^s of divine vengeance overtaking me for my
crimes, [not by v:U offence.]
By
The Comedy of ERRORS. 211
By profperous voyages I often made
To Epidamnum ; 'till my factor's death,
And the great care of goods at random left,
Drew me from kind embracements of my fpoufe ;
From whom my abfence was not fix months old.
Before herfelf (almoft at fainting under
The pleafing punilhment that women bear)
Had made provifion for her following me,
And foon, and fafe, arrived where I was.
There me had not been long, but me became
A joyful mother of two goodly fons ;
And, which was ftrange, the one fo like the other,
As could not be diftinguifh'd but by names.
That very hour, and in the felf-fame inn,
A poor mean woman was delivered
Of fuch a burthen, male-twins both alike:
Thofe (for their parents were exceeding poor)
I bought, and brought up to attend my fons.
My wife, not meanly proud of two fuch boys,
Made daily motions for our home-return :
Unwilling, I agreed ; alas, too foon !
We came aboard.
A league from Epidamnum had we fail'd,
Before the always-wind-obeying deep
Gave any tragick inftance of our harm ;
But longer did we not retain much hope :
For what obfcured light the heav'ns did grant,
Did but convey unto our fearful minds
A doubtful warrant of immediate death ;
Which, tho' myfelf would gladly have embrac'd,
Yet the incefTant weeping of my wife,
(Weeping before, for what (he law muft come ;)
And piteous plainings of the pretty babes,
That mourn'd for falhion, ignorant what to fear,
Forc'd me to feek delays for them and me:
And this it was , (for other means were none.)
The failors fought for fafety by our boat,
P 2 And
the Comedy of ERRORS.
And left the (hip, then finking-ripe, to us;
My wife, more careful for the elder born,
Had faften'd him unto a fmall fpare maft,
Such as fea-faring men provide for ftorms ;
To him one of the other twins was bound,
Whilft I had been like heedful of the other.
The children thus difpos'd, my wife and I,
Fixing our eyes on whom our care was fixt,
Faften'd ourielves at either end the maft ;
And floating ftraight, obedient to the ttream,
Were carry'd towards Corinth, as we thought.
At length the fun, gazing upon the earth,
Difpers'd thofe vapours that offended us ;
And, by the benefit of his wifh'd light,
The Teas waxt calm -, and we difcovered
Two mips from far making amain to us,
Of Corinth that, of Epidaurus this;
But ere they came oh, let me fay no more!
Gather the fequel by that went before.
Duke. Nay, forward, old man, do not break offfo ;
For we may pity, tho' not pardon thee.
JLgeon. Oh, had the Gods done fo, I had not now
Worthily term'd them mercilefs to us;
For ere the fhips could meet by twice five leagues,
We were encountered by a mighty rock ;
Which being violently borne upon,
Our hclplefs fhip was fplitted in the midft :
So that, in this unjuft divorce of us,
Fortune had left to both of us alike
What to delight in, what to forrow for.
Her part, poor foul! feeming as burdened
With lefler weight, but not with leffer woe,
Was carry'd wkh more fpeed before the wind,
And in our fight they three were taken up
By fifhermen of Corinth, as we thought.
At length, another (hip had feiz'd on us ;
And knowing whom it was their hap to fave,
Gave
The Comedy of E R n o R s. 213
helpful welcome to their fhipwreckt guefts;
And would have reft the fi fliers of their prey,
Had not their bark been very flow of fail ;
And therefore homeward did they bend their courfe.
Thus have you heard me fever'd from my blifs;
That by misfortunes was my life prolong'd,
To tell fad {lories of my own mi (taps.
Duke. And, for the fakes of them thou forrow'ft for,
Do me the favour to dilate at full
What hath befall'n of them, and thee, 'till now.
jEgeon. My youngeft boy, and yet my eldeft care,
At eighteen years became inquifitive
After his brother; and importun'd me,
That his attendant., (for his cafe was like,
Reft of his brother, but retain'd his name,)
Might bear him company in queft of him:
Whom whilft I labour'd of a love to fee,
I hazarded the lofs of whom I lov'd.
Five fummers have I fpent in fartheft Greece ',
Roaming clean through the bounds of Afia^
And coaiting homeward, came to Epbefus :
Hopelefs to find, yet loth to leave unfought,
Or that, or any place that harbours men.
But here muft end the (lory of my life ;
And happy were I in my timely death,
Could all my travels warrant me they live.
Duke. Haplefs JEgeon^ whom the fates have markt
To bear th* extremity of dire mimap ;
Now, truft me, were it not againft our laws,
(Which Princes, would they, may not difannul;)
Againft my crown, my oath, my dignity,
My foul fhould fue as advocate for thee.
But, tho* thou art adjudged to the death,
And paired fentence may not be recall'd,
But to our honour's great difparagement ;
Yet will I favour thee in what I can i
I therefore, merchant, Jimit thee this day,
? To
Comedy of ERRORS.
To feek thy life by beneficial help:
Try all the friends thou haft in Epbefus,
Beg thou, or borrow, to make up the fum,
And live ; if not, then thou art doom'd to die.
Jailor, take him to thy cuftody.
\_Exeunt Duke, and Train,
Jail. I will, my Lord.
JEgeon. Hopelefs and helplefs doth Mgeon wend,
But to procraftinate his lifelefs end.
[Exeunt ^Egeon, and Jailor,
SCENE II.
Changes to the Street.
Enter Antipholis of Syracufe, a Merchant, and
Dromio.
Afcr.'~pHerefore give out, you are of Epidamnum,
A Left that your goods too foon be confifcate.
This very day, a Syracufan merchant
Is apprehended for arrival here ;
And, not being able to buy out his life,
According to the ftatute of the town,
Dies ere the weary fun fet in the weft :
There is your mony, that I had to keep.
Ant. Go bear it to the Centaur^ where we ho ft,
And flay there, Dromio^ 'till I come to thee:
Within this hour it will be dinner time ;
'Till that I'll view the manners of the town,
Perufe the traders, gaze upon the buildings,
And then return and fleep within mine inn ;
For with long travel I am ftiff and weary.
Get thee away.
Dro. Many a man would take you at your word,
And go indeed, having fo good a means.
[Exit Dromio.
Ant,
The Comedy of ERRORS. 215
Ant. A trufty villain, Sir, that very oft,
When I am dull with care and melancholy,
Lightens my humour with his merry jefts.
What, will you walk with me about the town,
And then go to the inn and dine with me?
Mer. I am invited, Sir, to certain merchants,
Of whom I hope to make much benefit :
I crave your pardon. Soon at five o'clock,
Pleafe you, I'll meet with you upon the mart,
And afterward confort you 'till bed-time:
My prefent bufinefs calls me from you now.
Ant. Farewel 'till then ; I will go lofe myfelf,
And wander up and down to view the city.
Mer. Sir^ I commend you to your own content.
[Exit Merchant.
SCENE III.
Ant. He that commends me to my own content,
Commends me to the thing I cannot get.
I to the world am like a drop of water,
That in the ocean feeks another drop,
Who falling there to find his fellow forth,
Unfeen inquilitive, confounds himfelf :
So I, to find a mother and a brother,
In queft of them, unhappy, lofe myfelf.
Enter Dromio of Ephefus.
Here comes the almanack of my true date.
What now ? how chance, thou art return'd fo foon ?
E. Dro. Return'd fo foon ! rather approach'd too
late :
The capon burns, the pig falls from the fpit,
The clock has ftrucken twelve upon the bell j
My miftrefs made it one upon my cheek ;
She is fo hot, becaufe the meat is cold ;
The meat is cold, becaufe you come not home ;
P 4 You
The Comedy of ERRORS.
You come not home, becaufe you have no ftomach ;
You have no ftomach, having broke your fait:
But we, that know what 'tis to fad and pray,
Are penitent for your default to day.
Ant. Stop in your wind, Sir , tell me this, I pray,
Where you have left the mony that I gave you ?
E Dro. Oh, fix-pence, that I had z.Wednefday\z.^
To pay the fadler for my miftrefs' crupper ?
The fadler had it, Sir; I kept it not,
Ant. I am not in a fportive humour now j
Tell me and dally not, where is the mony ?
We being ftrangers here, how dar'ft thou truft
So great a charge from thine own cuftody ?
E. Dro. I pray you, jeft, Sir, as you fit at dinner:
I from rry miftrefs come to you in poft ;
If I return, I mail be poft indeed ;
For (he will fcore your fault upon my pate:
Methinks, your maw, like mine, mould be your clock ;
And ftrike you home without a meffenger.
Ant. Come, Dromio, come, thefe jefts are out of
feafon ;
Referve them 'till a merrier hour than this :
Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee?
E. Dro. To me, Sir ? why, you gave no gold to me.
Ant. Come on, Sir knave, have done your foolifhnefs ;
And tell me, how thou halt dilpos'd thy charge?
E. Dro. My charge was but to fetch you from the
mart
Home to your houfe, the Phoenix* Sir, to dinner j
My miftrefs and her fifter ftay for you.
Ant. Now, as I am a chriftian anfwer me,
In what fafe place you have beftow'd my mony i
Or I mall break that merry fconce of yours,
That ftands on tricks when I am undifpos'd ;
Where are the thoufand marks thou hadft of me ?
E. Dro. I have fome marks of yours upon my pate j
Some of my miftrefs' marks upon my fhoulders ;
But
The Comedy of ERRORS.
Put not a thoufand marks between you both.
If I mould pay your worfhip thofe again,
Perchance, you will not bear them patiently.
Ant. Thy miftrefs' marks? what miftrefs, flave,
haft thou ? [Pbanix ;
E. Dro. Your worfhip's wife, my miftrefs at the
She, that doth faft, 'till you come home to dinner j
And prays, that you will hie you home to dinner.
Ant. What wilt thou flout me thus unto my face,
Being forbid ? there take you that, Sir knave.
E. Dro. What mean you, Sir? for God's fake, hold
your hands ;
Nay, an you will not, Sir, I'll take my heels.
[Exit Dromio.
Ant, Upon my life, by fome device or other,
The villain is o'er-wrought of all my mony.
2 They fay, this town is full of couzenagej
\ As, nimble jugglers, that deceive the eye ;
2 They fay, this town is full of c ouxenage ; ] This was the cha-
rafter the ancients give of it. Hence tQ-fia. ^^i^et^^fut,
was proverbial amongft them. Thus Menander ufes it, '& "E^-yiet,
Q/pw'/y.jwal*, in the fame fenfe.
3 As, nimble jugglers, that deceive the eye ;
Dark- working forcerers, that change the mind;
Soul-killing witches, that deform the hotly ;] Thofe who atten-
tively ccnfider thefe three lines, muft confefs that the Poet inten-
ded, tire epithet given to each of thefe mifcreants, fhould declare
the power by which they perform their feats, and which would
therefore be a juft charafteriftick of each of them. Thus, by
nimble jugglers, we are taught that they perform their tricks by
flight of hand: and by foul-killing witches, we are inform'd, the
mifchief they do is by the affiftance of the devil, to whom they
have given their fouls : But then, by dark working Sorcerers, we
are not inltrucled in the means by which they perform their ends.
Belidcs, this epithet agrees as well to witches, as to them ; and
therefore, certainly, our author could not defign this in their cha-
ratteriftick. We fhould read ;
Drug- working forcerers, that change the mind',
And we know by the hiftory of ancient and modern fuperftition,
that thefe kind of jugglers always pretended to work changes of
the mind by thefe applications.
< Drug-
2i8 "The Comedy of ERRORS.
Drug-working forcerers, that change the mind ;
Soul-killing witches, that deform the body ;
Difguifed cheaters, prating mountebanks,
And many fuch like libertines of fin :
If it prove fo, I will be gone the fooner.
I'll to the Centaur^ to go feek this flave ;
I greatly fear, my mony is not fafe. {Exit.
ACT II. SCENE I.
'The Houfe of Antipholis of Ephefus.
Enter Adriana and Luciana.
AD RI A N A.
NE I T H E R my husband, nor the flave returned,
That in fuch hafte I fent to feek his matter!
Sure, Luciana^ it is two o* clock.
Luc. Perhaps, fome merchant hath invited him,
And from the mart he's fomewhere gone to dinner :
Good fifter, let us dine, and never fret.
A man is matter of his liberty :
Time is their matter ; and when they fee time,
They'll go or come ; if fo, be patient, fifter.
Adr. Why fhould their liberty than ours be more?
IMC. Becaufe their bufmefs ftill lyes out a-door.
Adr. Look, when I ferve him fo, he takes it ill.
IMC. Oh, know, he is the bridle of your will.
Adr. There's none, but afles, will be bridled fo.
Luc. Why, head-ftrong liberty is lafht with wo.
There's nothing fituate under heaven's eye,
But hath its bound in earth, in fea, in sky :
The beads, the fifties, and the winged fowls,
Are their males* fubje&s, and at their controuls :
Man,
The Comedy of E R R o R s.
Man, more divine, the mafter of all thefe,
Lord of the wide world, and wide wat'ry feas,
Indu'd with intellectual fenfe and foul,
Of more preheminence than fifh and fowl,
Are matters to their females, and their lords:
Then let your will attend on their accords.
Adr. This fervitude makes you to keep unwed.
Luc. Not this, but troubles of the marriage-bed.
Adr. But were you wedded, you would bear fome
fway.
Luc. Ere I learn love, I'll pra&ife to obey.
Adr. How if your husband ftart fome other where?
Luc. 'Till he come home again, I would forbear.
Adr. Patience unmov'd, no marvel tho' mepaufej
They can be meek, that have no other caufe:
A wretched foul, bruis'd with adverfity,
We bid be quiet, when we hear it cry ;
But were we burden'd with like weight of pain.
As much, or more, we mould ourfelves complain.
So thou, that haft no unkind mate to grieve thee,
With urging helplefs patience would'ft relieve me :
But if thou live to fee like right bereft,
This fool-begg'd patience in thee will be left.
Luc. Well, I will marry one day but to try ;
Here comes your man, now is your husband nigh,
SCENE II.
Enter Dromio of Ephefus.
Adr. Say, is your tardy mafter now at hand ?
R. Dro. Nay, he's at two hands with me, and that
my two ears can witnefs.
Adr. Say, did'ft thou fpeak with him? know'ft
thou his mind ?
E. Dro. Ay, ay, he told me his mind upon mine ear.
Befhrew his hand, I fcarce could under-ftand it.
Luc:
The Comedy of E R R o RS.
Luc. Spake he fo doubtfully, thou could'ft not feel
his meaning ?
E. Dro. Nay, he ftruck fo plainly, I could too well
feel his blows ; and withal fo doubtfully, that I could
fcarce underftand them.
Adr. But fay, I pr'ythee, is he coming home?
It feems, he hath great care to pleafe his wife.
E. Dro. Why, miftrefs, fure, my matter is horn-mad.
Adr. Horn-mad, thou villain?
E. Dro. I mean not, cuckold- mad ; but, fure, he's
ftark mad :
When I defir'd him to come home to dinner,
He ask'd me for a thoufand marks in gold :
'Tis dinner-time, quoth I; my gold, quoth he:
Your meat doth burn, quoth I , my gold, quoth he:
"Will you come home, quoth I ? my gold, quoth he:
Where is the thoufand marks I gave thee, villain ?
The pig, quoth I, is burn'd ; my gold, quoth he.
My miftfels, Sir, quoth I ; hang up thy miftrefs!
I know not thy miftrefs j out on thy miftrefs !
JLuc. Quoth who ?
E. Dro. Quoth my mafter :
I know, quoth he, no houfe, no wife, no miftrefs j
So that my errand, due unto my tongue,
I thank him, I bare home upon my moulders :
For, in conclufion, he did beat me there.
Adr. Go back again, thou (lave, and fetch him
home.
E. Dro. Go back again, and be new beaten home?
For God's fake, fend fome other meflenger.
Adr. Back, (lave, or I will break thy pate acrofs.
E. Dro. And he will blels that crofs with other
beating :
Between you I mail have a holy head.
Adr. Hence, prating peafant, fetch thy mafter home.
E. Dro. Am I fo round with you as you with me,
That like a foot-ball you do fpurn me thus?
You
The Comedy of ERRORS. 221
You fpurn me hence, and he will fpurn me hither:
If I laft in this fervice, you muft cafe me in leather.
[Exit.
SCENE III.
Luc. Fie, how impatience lowreth in your face !
Adr. His company mufl do his minions grace,
Whilft I at home ftarve for a merry look :
Hath homely age th' alluring beauty took
From my poor cheek ? then, he hath wafted it.
Are my difcourfesdull ? barren my wit ?
If voluble and fharp difcourfe be marr'd,
Unkindnefs blunts it, more than marble hard.
Do their gay veftments his affections bait ?
That's not my fault : he's mafter of my (late.
What ruins are in me, that can be found
By him not ruin'd ? then, is he the ground
Of my defeatures. My decayed fair
A funny look of his would foon repair.
But, too unruly dear, he breaks the pale,
And feeds from home ; poor I am but his dale.
JLuc. Self harming jealoufie! fie, beat it hence.
Adr. Unfeeling fools can with fuch wrongs difpenfe:
I know, his eye doth homage other-where ;
Or elfe what lets it, but he would be here ?
Sifter, you know he promis'd me a chain ;
Would that alone, alone, he would detain,
So he would keep fair quarter with his bed.
1 I fee, the jewel, beft enameled,
Will
I I fee, theje-ivel, left enameled,
Will lofe his beauty ; YET the gold bides Jlill,
That others touch, AND often touching will :
WHERE gold and no man, that hath a name,
~&v fal/hood and corruption doth it Jhame ] In this miferable
condition is this paffage given us. It fhould be read thus,
1 fee, the jewel, heft enameled,
Will loft his beauty j and the gold bides Jiill t
That
Comedy of ERRORS.
Will lofe his beauty ; and the gold bides ftill,
That others touch ; yet often touching will
Wear gold : and fo no man, that hath a name,
But falfhood, and corruption, doth it mame.
Since that my beauty cannot pleafe his eye,
I'll weep what's left away, and weeping die.
Luc. How many fond fools ferve mad jealoufie !
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Changes fo the Street.
Enter Antipholis of Syracufe.
Jlnl. HP H E gold I gave to Dromio is laid up
JL Safe at the Centaur ; and the heedful flave
Is wander'd forth in care to feek me out.
By computation, and mine hoft's report,
I could not fpeak with Dromio^ fince at firft
I fent him from the mart. See, here he comes.
Enter Dromio of Syracufe.
How now, Sir ? is your merry humour alter'd ? . *
As you love ftrokes, fo jeft with me again.
You know no Centaur ? you receiv'd no gold ?
Your miftrefs fent to have me home to dinner ?
My houfe was at the Phcenix ? waft thou mad,
That thus fo madly thou didft anfwer me ?
S. Dro. What anfwer, Sir ? when fpake I fuch a
word ?
That others touch ; yet often touching will
Wear gold : and fo no man, that hath a name,
But faljhood, and corruption, doth it jhame.
The fenfe is this, ' Gold, indeed, will long bear the handling ;
" however, often touching, will wear even gold ; juft fo the great-
" eft chara&er, tho' as pure a? gold itfelf, may, in time, be in-
" jured, by the repeated attacks of falfhood and corruption."
Ant.
The Comedy of E RRORS,
Ant. Even now, even here, not half an hour fmce.
S. Dro. I did not fee you fmce you fent me hence
Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me.
Ant. Villain, thou didft deny the gold's receipt ;
And told'ft me of a miftefs, and a dinner}
For which, I hope, thou felt'ft I was difpleas'd.
S. Dro. I'm glad to fee you in this merry vein :
What means this jeft, I pray you, mafter, tell me ?
Ant. Yea, doft thou jeer and flout me in the teeth ?
Think'ft thou, I jeft ? hold, take thou that, and that.
[Beats Dro.
S. Dro. Hold, Sir, for God's fake, now your jeft
is earned ;
Upon what bargain do you give it me ?
Ant. Becaufe that I familiarly fometimes
Do ufe you for my fool, and chat with you,
Your fawcinefs will jeft upon my love,
And make a common of my ferious hours.
When the fun mines, let foolifh gnats make fport ;
But creep in crannies, when he hides his beams:
If you will jeft with me, know my afpedr.,
And fafhion your demeanour to my looks ;
Or I will * beat this method in your fconce.
S. Dro. Sconce, call you it ? fo you would leave
battering, I had rather have it a head ; an you ufe
thefe blows long, I muft get a fconce for my head,
and infconce it too, or elfe I mail feek my wit in my
moulders : but, I pray, Sir, why am I beaten ?
Ant. Doft thou not know ?
S. Dro. Nothing, Sir, but that I am beaten.
Ant. Shall I tell you why ?
S. Dro. Ay* Sir, and wherefore ; for, they fay,
every why hath a wherefore.
Ant. Why, firft, for flouting me ; and then where-
fore, for urging it the fecond time to me.
beat this method ] Method, for inftru&ion.
S.
The Comedy of E R R o R s.
S. Dro. Was there ever any man thus beaten our of
feafon,
When, in the why, and wherefore, is neither rhime
nor reafon ?
Well, Sir, I thank you.
Ant. Thank me, Sir, for what?
S. Dro, Marry, Sir, for this fomething that you
gave me for nothing.
Ant. I'll make you amends next, to give you no-
thing for fomething. Bat fay, Sir, is it dinner-time ?
S.Dro. No, Sir, I think, the meat wants that I have.
Ant. In good time, Sir, what's that?
S. Dro. Bailing.
Ant. Well, Sir, then 'twill be dry.
S. Dro. If it be, Sir, I pray you eat none of it.
Ant. Your reafon ?
S. Dro. Left it make you cholerick, and purchafe
me another dry-bafting.
Ant. Well, Sir, learn to jeft in good time 3 there's
a time for all things.
S. Dro. I durft have deny'd that, before you were
fo cholerick.
Ant. By what rule, Sir ?
S. Dro. Marry, Sir, by a ruk as plain as the plain
bald pate of father Time himfelf.
Ant. Let's hear it.
S. Dro. There's no time for a man to recover his
hair, that grows bald by nature.
Ant. May he not do it by fine and recovery ?
S. Pro. Yes, to pay a fine for a peruke, and recover
the loft hair of another man.
Ant. Why is Time fuch a niggard of hair, being, as
it is, fo plentiful an excrement ?
S. Dro. Becaufe it is a bleffing that he beftows on
beafts ; and what he hath fcanted men in hair, he hath
given (a) them in wit.
[ () men, Mr. Theobald Vulg. them.']
Ant.
The Comedy of E R RO R s.
Ant. Why, but there's many a man hath more hair
than wit.
S. Dro. Not a man of thofe, but he hath the Wit to
lofe his hain
jtnt. Why, thou didft conclude hairy men plain deal-
ers without wit.
S. Dro. The plainer dealer, the fooner loft ; yet he
lofeth it in a kind of jollity.
Ant. For what reafon ?
S. Dro. For two, and found ones too.
Ant. Nay, not found, I pray you.
S. Dro. Sure ones then.
Ant. Nay* not fure in a thing falfing.
S. Dro. Certain ones then.
Ant. Name them.
S. Dro. The one to fave the money that he fpends
in trying ; the other, that at dinner they mould not
drop in his porridge.
Ant. You would all this time have pirov'd, there is
no time for all things.
S. Dro. Marry, and did, Sir 5 namely* no time to
recover hair loft by nature.
Ant. But your reafon was not fubftantial, why there
is no time to recover.
S, Dro. Thus I mend ft : Time hirhfelf is bald, and
therefore to the world's end will have bald followers.
dnt. I knew, 'twould be a bald conclufion : but s
foft ! who wafts us yonder ?
SCENE V.
Enter Adriana, and Luciana
Adri. Ay, ay, jfntipbotis, look ftrange and frown,
Some other miftrefs hath thy fweet afpeds :
I am not Adriana^ nor thy wife.
The time was once, when thou, unurg'd, wouldft vow,
* That never words were mufick to thine ear,
VOL, III. Q ' That
226 Ite Comedy of ERRORS.
That never obje<5l pleafing in thine eye,
That never touch well welcome to thy hand,
That never meat fweet- favoured in thy tafte,
* Unlels 1 fpake, or look'd, or touch'd, or carvM.
How comes it now, my husband, oh, how comes it,
That thou art thus eftranged from thy felf ?
Thy felf I call it, being ftrange to me :
That, undividable, incorporate,
Am better than thy dear felf's better part.
Ah, do not tear away thy felf from me :
For know, my love, as eafie may'ft thou fall
A drop of water in the breaking gulph,
And take unmingled thence that drop again,
Without addition or diminiming,
As take from me thy felf ; and not me too.
How dearly would it touch thee to the quick,
Should'ft thou but hear, I were licentious ?
And that this body, confecrate to thee,
By ruffian luft mould be contaminate ?
Would'ft thou not fpit at me, and fpurn at me,
And hurl the name of husband in my face,
And tear the flain'd skin of my harlot-brow,
And from my falfe hand cut the wedding-ring,
And break it with a deep-divorcing vow ?
I know thou can'ft ; and therefore, fee, thou do it.
3 I am pofiefs'd vith an adulterate blot ;
My blood is mingled with the Grime of luft :
For if we two be one, and thou play falle,
I do digeft the poifon of thy flefh,
Being (trumpeted by thy contagion.
3 lam poflefidtKitb an adulterate blot ;
My blood it mingled ivitb the CR i M E of luft :] Both the inte-
grity of the mecaphor, and the word blot t in the preceding line,
Ihevv that we fliould read,
iuitb the GRIME of lujl : i.e. the jiain, fmut. So a-
gain in this play, A man may go overJhQtt in ihe CRIME of it,
Keep
The Comedy of ERRORS. 227
Keep then fair league, and truce with thy true bed ;
I live diftain'd, chou undiflionoured.
Ant. Plead you to me, fair dame ? I know you not :
In Epbefus I am but two hours old,
As ftrange unto your town as to your talk.
Who, every word by all my wit being fcann'd,
Wants wit in all one word to underftand.
Luc. Fie, brother! how the world is chang'd with
you;
When were you wont to ufe my fitter thus?
She fent for you by Dromio home to dinner.
Ant. By Dromio ?
S. Dro. By me ?
Adr. By thee ; and thus thou didft return from him,
That he did buffet thee ; and in his blows
Deny'd my houfe for his, me for his wife.
Ant, Did you converfe, Sir, with this gentle*
woman ?
What is the courfe and drift of your compact ?
S. Dro. I, Sir, I never faw her 'till this time.
Ant. Villain, thou Jieft ; for even her very words
Didft thou deliver to me on the mart.
S. Dro. I never fpoke with her in all my life.
Ant. How can fhe thus then call us by our names,
Unlefs it be by infpiration ?
Adr. How ill agrees it with your gravity,
To counterfeit thus grofly with your flave,
Abetting him to thwart me in my mood?
Be it my wrong, 4 you are from me exempt,
But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt.
Come, I will fallen on this fleeve of thine;
" Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine :
" Whofe weaknefs, marry'd to thy ftronger ftate,
" Makes me with thy ftrength to communicate 5
*' If aught pofiefs thee from me, it is drofs,
4 you art from me exempt,] Exempt, for eftranged.
Q_2 Ufurp-
228 The Comedy of ERRORS.
" Ufurping ivy, brier, or idle mofs ;
a Who, all for want of pruning, with intrufion
" Infect thy fap, and live on thy confufion.
Ant. To me fhe fpeaks ; Ihe moves me for her
theam ;
What, was 1 marry'd to her in my dream ?
Or deep I now, and think I hear all this ?
What error drives our eyes and ears amifs ?
Until I know this fure uncertainty,
PJ1 entertain the favoured fallacy.
IMC. Dromio, go bid the fervants fpread for dinner.
S. Dro. Oh, for my beads! I crofs me for a finner.
This is the Fairy land : oh, fpight of fpights !
* We talk with goblins, owls, and elvifli fprights;
If we obey them not, this will enfue,
They'll fuck our breath, and pinch us black and blue.
Luc. Why prat'ft thou to thy felf, and anfwer'ft
not ?
Dromio, thou drone, thou fnail, thou flug, thou fot !
5 We talk 'with goblins, owls, and elvijh fprights j] Here Mr.
Theobald calls out in the name ofNonfenfe, the tirft time he hadfor-
mally invoked her, to tell him how Ov: Is could fuck their breath, and
pinch them black and blue. He, therefore, alters O<vuls to Ouphs,
and dares fay, that his readers will acquiefce in the juflnefs of his
emendation. But, for all this, we mull not part with the old read-
ing. He did not know it to be an old popular fuperftition, that
the fcretch-owl fucked out the breath and blood of infants in the
cradle. On this account, the Italians called Witches, who were
fuppofed to be in like manner mifchievoufly bent againft children,
Strega from Strix, the Scretch-o f wl. 1 his fuperftition they had derived
from their Pagan anceftor.-, as appears from this pafiage of OviJ,
Sunt ai'idte valucres ; non qu<e Phineia men/is
Guttura fraudabant : fed genus indetrahunt.
Grande caput : jiantes oculi : rojlra apt a rapine :
Canitit! pennh, unguibus hamut ineft.
Nofie volant, PUEROSQJ;E PETUNT nut rids egentet ;
El -vitiant CUN i s corpora raptafuis.
Carper e dicuntur laEiantia vifcera rojiris ',
Et plenum poto fanguine guttur kabent.
Eft illis ftrigibus nomen ; . Lib. 6. Feft.
S. Dro.
The Comedy of ERRORS. 229
S. Dro. I am transformed, mafter, am not I?
Ant, I think, thou art in mind, and fo am I.
S. Dro. Nay, mafter, both in mind and in my
mape.
Ant. Thou haft thine own form.
S. Dro. No ; I am an ape.
Luc. If thou art chang'd to aught, 'tis to an afs.
S. Dro. 'Tis true j me rides me, and I long for
grafs.
'Tis fo, I am an afs ; elfe it could never be,
But I mould know her, as well as me knows me.
Adr. Come, come, no longer will I be a fool,
To put the finger in the Eye and weep,
Whilft man and mafter laugh my woes to fcorn.
Come, Sir, to dinner; Dromio, keep the gatej
Husband, I'll dine above with you to day,
And fhrive you of a thoufand idle pranks ;
Sirrah, if any ask you for your mafter,
Say, he dines forth, and let no creature enter :
Come, fifter; Dromio, play the porter well.
Ant. Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell ?
Sleeping or waking, mad or well advis*d ?
Known unto thefe, and to myfclf difguis'd ?
I'll fay as they fay, and per fever fo ;
in this mift at all adventures go.
S. Dro. Mafter, mall 1 be porter at the gate ? ^
Adr. Ay, let none enter, left I break your pate. >
Luc. Come, come, Antipbotis, we dine too late. 3
[Exeunt.
ACT
The Comedy of ERRORS.
ACT III. SCENE I.
The Street before Antipholis'5 Houfe.
Enter Antipholis of Ephefus, Dromio of Ephefus,
Angelo, and Balthazar.
E. ANTIPHOLIS.
GO O.D Signior Angelo^ you muft excufe us ;
My wife is (hrewilh, when I keep not hours ;
Say, that I linger'd with you at your mop
To fee the making of her carkanet ;
And that to morrow you will bring it home.
But here's a villain, that would face me down
He met me on the mart, and that I beat him ,
And charg'd him with a thoufand marks in gold ;
And that I did deny my wife and houfe :
Thou drunkard, thou, what didft thou mean by this ?
E. Dro. Say, what you will, Sir j but I know what
I know ;
That you beat me at the mart, I have your hand to
mow ;
If the skin were parchment, and the blows you gave
were ink,
Your own hand-writing would tell you what I think,
E Ant. I think, thou art an afs.
E. Dro. Marry, fo it doth appear
By the wrongs I fuffer, and the blows I bear -,
I mould kick, being kickt ; and, being at that pafs,
You would keep from my heels, and beware of an afs.
E. Ant. Y'are fad, Signior Balthazar. Pray God,
our cheer
May anfwer my good will, and your good welcome
here.
Eal. I hold your dainties cheap, Sir, and your wel-
come dear.
E. Ant.
The Comedy of ERRORS.
E. Ant. Ah, Signior Balthazar, either at flefli or fifh,
A table-full of welcome makes fcarce one dainty difh.
aL Good meat, Sir, is common ; that every churl
affords.
E. Ant. And welcome more common ; for that's
nothing but words.
JBal. Small cheer, and great welcome, makes a
merry feaft.
E. Ant. Ay, to a niggardly hoft, and more fparing
gueft:
But tho* my cates be mean, take them in good part ;
Better cheer may you have, but not with better heart.
But, foft ; my door is lockt ; go bid them let us in.
E. Dro. Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicely, Gillian, Ginn !
S. Dro. [within] Mome, malc-horie, capon, cox-
comb, idiot, patch !
Either get thee from the door, or fit down at the hatch :
Doft thou conjure for wenches, that thou call'lt for
fuch ftore,
When one is one too many ? go, get thee from the
door.
E. Dro. What patch is made our porter ? my mafter
flays in the flreet.
S. Dro. Let him walk from whence he came, left he
catch cold on's feet.
E. Ant. Who talks within there ? hoa, open the
door.
S. Dro. Right, Sir, I'll tell you when, an you'll tell
me wherefore.
E. Ant. Wherefore ? for my dinner : I have not
din'd today.
S. Dro. Nor to day here you muft not : come again,
when you may.
E. Ant. What art thou, that keep'ft me out from
the houfe I owe ?
S. Dro. The porter for this time, Sir, and my name
is Dromio.
E. Dro.
The Comedy of E R R o R s.
E. Dro. O villian, thou haft ftoll'n both mine office
and my name ;
The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle blame.
If thou had'ft been Dromio to day in my place,
Thou would'ft have chang'd thy face for a name, or
thy name for an afs.
Luce, [within] What a coile is there, Dromio ? who
are thofe at the gate ?
E. Dro. Let my mafter in, Luce.
Luce. Faith, no ; he comes too late ;
And fo tell your mafter.
E. Dro. O lord, I muft laugh ;
Have at you with a Proverb. Shall I fet in my ftaff?
Luce. Have at you with another ; that's when, can
you tell ?
S.Dro. If thy name be cal I'd Luce, Luce, thou haft
anfwer'd him well.
E. Ant. Do you hear, you minion, you'll Jet us in,
I trow ?
Luce. I thought to have askt you.
S. Dro. And you faid, no.
E. Dro. So, come, help, well ftruck j there was
blow for blow.
E. Ant. Thou baggage, let me in.
Luce. Can you tell for whofe fake ?
E. Dro. Mafter, knock the door hard.
Luce. Let him knock, 'till it ake.
E. Ant. You'll cry for this, minion, if I beat the
door down.
Luce. What needs all that, and a pair of flocks in
the town ?
Adr. \witbin~] Who is that at the door, that keeps
all this noife ?
S. Dro. By my troth, your town is troubled witli
unruly boys.
E, Ant. Are you there, wife ? you might have come
before.
the Comedy of ERRORS. 233
Adr. Your wife, Sir knave ! go, get you from the
door.
E. Dro. If you went in pain, matter, this knave
would go fore.
Ang. Here is neither cheer, Sir, nor welcome \ we
would fain have either.
Bal. In debating which was beft, * we mail ;/e
part with neither.
E. Dro. They ftand at the door, mafter ; bid them
welcome hither.
E. Ant. There's fomething in the wind, that we can-
not get in.
. Dro. You would fay fo, mafter, if your garments
were thin.
Your cake here is warm within : you ftand here in the
cold :
It would make a man mad as a buck to be fo bought
and fold.
E. Ant. Go fetch me fomething, I'll break ope the
gate.
S. Dro. Break any thing here, and I'll break your
knave's pate.
E. Dro. A man may break a word with you, Sir,
and words are but wind \
Ay, and break it in your face, fo he break it not
behind.
S. Dro. It feems, thou wanteft breaking j out upon
thee, hind !
E. Dro. Here's too much, out upon thee ! I pray
thee, let me in.
S. Dro. Ay, when fowls have no feathers, and fifh
have no fin.
E. Ant. Well, I'll break in ; go borrow me a crow.
E. Dro. A crow without feather, mafter, mean you
fo?
i nve foal/ part 'with neither. ~\ Common fenfe requires us to
read, vjejball HAVE fart 'with neither.
For
234 *&* Comedy 0/* ERRORS.
For a fifli without a fin, there's a fowl without a fea-
ther :
If a crow help us in, firrah, we'll pluck a crow toge-
ther.
E. Ant. Go, get thee gone, fetch me an iron crow,
Bal. Have patience, Sir : oh, let it not be fo.
Herein you war againft your reputation,
And draw within the compafs of fufpeft
Th' unviolated honour of your wife.
Once, this ; your long experience of her wifdom,
Her fober virtue, years, and modefty,
PJead on her part fome caufe to you unknown ;
And doubt not, Sir, but fhe will well excufe,
Why at this time the doors are barr'd againft you.
Be rul'd by me, depart in patience,
And let us to the fyger all to dinner ;
And about evening come your felf alone,
To know the reafon of this ftrange reftraint.
If by ftrong hand you offer to break in,
Now in the ftirring paflage of the day,
A vulgar comment will be made of it ;
And that fuppofed by the common rout,
Againft your yet ungalled eftimation,
That may with foul intrufion enter in,
And dwell upon your grave when you are dead :
For flander lives upon fucceflion ;
For ever hous'd, where it once gets pofleflion.
E. Ant. You have prevail'd ; i will depart in quiet,
'- And, in defpight of mirth, mean to be merry.
I know a wench of excellent difcourfe,
Pretty and witty, wild, and, yet too, gentle ;
2 And, in dtfpight of mirth, ] Mr. Theobald does not know
what to make of this ; and, therefore, has put nurath inllead of
mirth into the text, in which he is followed by the Oxford Edi-
tor. But the old reading is right ; and the meaning is, I will be
merry, even out of fpite to mirth, which is, now, of all things,
the moft unpleafing to me.
There
The Comedy of ERRORS. 235
There will we dine : this woman that I mean,
My wife (but, I proteft, without defert,)
Hath oftentimes upbraided me withal ;
To her will we to dinner. Get you home,
And fetch the chain ; by this, I know, 'tis made ;
Bring it, I pray you, to the Porcupine ,
For there's the houfe : that chain will I beftow,
(Be it for nothing but to fpight my wife,)
Upon mine hoftefs there. Good Sir, make hafte :
Since my own doors refufe to entertain me,
I'll knock elfewhere, to fee if they'll difdain me.
Ang. I'll meet you at that place, fome hour, Sir,
hence.
E. Ant. Do fo ; thisjeft mail coftme fomeexpence.
\Exeunt.
SCENE II.
The Houfe of Antipholis 0/'Ephefus.
Enter Luciana, with Antipholis of Syracufe.
Luc. AND may it be that you have quite forgot
Ji\ A husband's office ? fhall, Antipbolis,
Ev'n in the fpring of Jove, thy love fprings rot ?
Shall love, in J building, grow fo ruinate ?
If you did wed my fitter for her wealth,
Then for her wealth's fake ufe her with more kind-
nefs ;
Or if you like elfewhere, do it by Health ;
Muffle your falfe love with fome Ihew of blindnefs.i
Let not my fitter read it in your eye ;
Be not thy tongue thy own fhame's orator ;
Look fweet, fpeak fair; become difloyalty :
Apparel vice, like virtue's harbinger ;
3 buildings, ] Mr. Theobald has here removed a fuper-
fluous letter.
Bear
2 36 The Cowedy of ERRORS.
Bear a fair prefence, tho f your heart be tainted :
Teach fin the carriage of a holy faint ;
Be fecret-falfe : what need me be acquainted ?
What fimple thief brags of his own attaint?
5 Tis double wrong, to truant with your bed,
And let her read it in thy looks at board :
Shame hath a baflard fame, well managed ;
111 deeds are doubled with an evil word :
Alas, poor women ! make us (a} but believe,
Being compact of credit, that you love us ;
Tho* others have the arm, (hew us the fleeve :
We in your motion turn, and you may move us.
Then, gentle brother, get you in again 5
Comfort my fitter, chear her, call her wife ;
'Tis holy fport to be a little vain,
When the fweet breath of flattery conquers ftrife.
S. Ant. Sweet miftrefs, (what your name is elfe, I
know not j
Nor by what wonder you do hit of mine :)
Lefs in your knowledge and your grace you mow not
Than our earth's wonder, more than earth divine.
Teach me, dear creature, how to think and fpeak j
Lay open to my earthy grofs conceit,
Smother'd in errors, feeble, mallow, weak,
The foulded meaning of your words' deceit ;
Againft my foul's pure truth why labour you,
To make it wander in an unknown field ?
Are you a God ? would you create me new ?
Transform me then, and to your pow'r I'll yield.
But if that I am I, then, well I know,
Your weeping fifter is no wife of mine ;
Nor to her bed no homage do I owe ;
Far more, far more, to you do I decline.
( a ] fat. Mr. Theobald Vulg. /.}
Oh,
The Comedy of ERRORS." 237
Oh, train me not, fweet mermaid, with thy note,
To drown me in thy lifter's flood of tears ;
Sing, Siren, for thyfelf, and I will dote ;
Spread o'er the filver waves thy golden hairs,
And as a bed I'll take thee, and there lye :
And 4 in that glorious fuppofition think,
He gains by death, that hath fuch means to die ;
Let love, being light, be drowned if me fink.
Luc. What, are you mad, that you do reafon fo ?
S. Ant. Not mad, but mated ; how, I do not know.
Luc. It is a fault that fpringeth from your eye.
S. Ant. For gazing on your beams, fair fun, be-
ing by.
Luc. Gaze where you mould, and that will clear
your fight.
S. Ant. As good to wink, fweet love, as look on
night.
Luc. Why call you me, love ? call my fiftcr fo.
S. Ant. Thy fitter's fitter.
Luc. That's my fitter.
S. Ant. No ,
It is thyfelf, mine own felf 's better part :
Mine eye's clear eye, my dear heart's dearer heart,
My food, my fortune, and my fweet hope's aim,
My fole earth's heaven, and my heaven's claim.
Luc. All this my fitter is, or elfe mould be.
S. Ant. Call thyfelf fitter, fweet; for I mean thee :
Thee will I love, and with thee lead my life ;
Thou haft no husband yet, nor I no wife.
Give me thy hand.
Luc. Oh, fofr, Sir, hold you ftill ;
I'll fetch my fifter, to get her good will.
[Exit Luciana.
4 in that glorious fuppofition ~] Suppo/ifion, for the thing
Jain open.
SCENE
3 ,g The Comedy of ERROR s.
SCENE III.
Enter Dromio of Syracufe.
S Ant. Why, how now, Dromio^ where run'ft thou
fo faft ?
S. Dro. Do you know me, Sir ? am I Dromio? am
I your man P am I myfelf?
S. Ant Thou art Dromio^ thou art my man, thou
art thyfelf.
S Dro. lam anafs, I am a woman's man, and be-
fides myfelf.
S. Ant. What woman's man ? and how befides thy-
felf?
S. Dro. Marry, Sir, befides myfelf, I am due to a
woman ; one that claims me, one that haunts me, one
that wi!l have me.
S. Ant. What claim lays fhe to thee ?
S. Dro. Marry, Sir, fuch a claim as you would lay
to your horfe ; and me would have me as a beaft : not
that, I being a beaft, fhe would have me ; but that
fhc, being a very beaftly creature, Jays claim to me.
S Ant. What is fhe?
S. Dro. A very reverent body ; ay, fuch a one as a
man may not fpeak of, without he fay, Sir reverence :
I have but lean luck in the match ; and yet is fhe a
Wond'rous fat marriage.
S. Ant. How dofl thou mean, a fat marriage ?
S. Dro. Marry, Sir, fhe's the kitchen-wench, and
all greafe ; and I know not what ufe to put her to, but
to make a lamp of her, and run from her by her own
light 1 warrant, her rags, and the tallow in them,
will burn 4 a Lapland winter : if fhe lives 'till doomf-
day, (he'll burn a week longer than the whole world.
S. Ant. What complexion is fhe of ?
S. Dro. Swart, like my fhoe, but her face nothing
5 a Poland winter:] Folio reads a Lapland winter. Right.
like
fhc Comedy of ERRORS.
like fo clean kept ; for why ? fhe fweats, a man may
go over fhoes in the grime of it.
S. Ant. That's a fault, that water will mend.
S. Dro. No, Sir, 'tis in grain 5 Noah's flood could
not do it.
S. Ant. What's her name ?
5". Dro. Nell, Sir ; but (a) her name and three
quarters (that is, an ell and three quarters) will not
meafure her from hip to hip.
S. Ant. Then fhe bears fome breadth ?
S. Dro. No longer from head to foot, than from
hip to hip : fhe is fpherical, like a globe : I could
find out countries in her.
S. Ant. In what part of her body (lands Ireland?
S. Dro. Marry, Sir, in her buttocks ; I found it
out by the bogs.
S. Ant. Where Scotland?
S. Dro. I found it out by the barrenneis, hard in the
palm of her hand.
S. Ant. Where Frame ?
S. Dro. In her forehead ; arm'd and reverted, ma-
king war 6 againfl her heir.
S.Ant. Where England?
S, Dro. I look'd tor the chalky cliffs, but I could
find no whitenefs in them ; but I guefs, it flood in her
chin, by the fait rheum that ran between France and it.
S. Ant. Where Spain ?
S. Dro. Faith, I faw it not, but I felt it hot in her
breath.
S. Ant. Where America, the Indies ?
S. Dro. Oh, Sir, upon her nofe, all o'er embellim'd
with rubies, carbuncles, faphires ; declining their rich
afpect to the hot breath of Spam, who fent whole arma-
does of carracts to be ballad at her nofc.
6 againft her heir. ] Heft. IV. of Trance. At that time the
League was in arms againlt him.
[ () her name and, Dr. Thirfby Vu!g. her name is ]
S. Ant.
The Comedy 0/ERRORs.
S. Ant. Where flood Belgia, the Netherlands?
S. Dro. Oh, Sir, I did not look fo low. 7 To con-
clude, 'this drudge of the devil, this diviner, laid
claim to me, call'd me Dromio, fwore I was aflur'd
to her, told me what privy marks I had about me, as
the marks of my moulder, the mole in my neck, the
great wart on my left arm, that I, amaz'd, ran from
her as a witch. * And, I think, if my bread had not
been made of faith, and my heart of fteel, fhe had
transform'd me to a curtal-dog, and made me turn
i'th' wheel.
S. Ant. Go, hie thee prefently ; poft to the road ;
And if the wind blow any way from fhore,
I will not harbour in this town to night*
If any hark put forth, come to the mart ;
Where I will walk, 'till you return to me :
If every one know us, and we know none,
*1 is time, I think, to trudge, pack and be gone.
S. Dro. As from a bear a man would run for life,
So fly 1 from her that would be my wife. [xf/
SCENE IV,
S. Ant. There's none but witches do inhabit here 5
And therefore 'tis high time that I were hence:
She, that doth call me husband, even my foul
Doth for a wife abhor. But her fair fitter,
PofTeft with fuch a gentle fovereign grace,
7 To conclude, this drudge, or diviner, laid claim to ?,] A lit-
tle lower, he calls her ivitch. A word is certainly dropt out of
the text. We fnould read,
this drudge OF THE DEVIL, THIS diviner,
Drudge of the Devil, is the right pariphrafis for a witch.
8 And, I think, if my breajl had not been made of faith, &V]
Alluding to the fuperfti'ion of the common people, that nothing
could refut a witch's po-.ver, of transforming men into animals,
but a great mare of faith : however the Oxford Editor thinks
a breajl made of flint, better fecurity, and has therefore put it in.
Of
fkc Comedy of ERRORS. 241
Of fuch enchanting prefence and difcourfe,
Hath almoft made me traitor to myfelf:
But left myfelf be guilty of felf- wrong,
I'll (lop mine ears againft the mermaid's fong.
Enter Angelo, with a chain.
Ant. Mafter AntifboFis,
S. Ant. Ay, that's my name.
Ang. I know it well, Sir ; lo, here is the chain 5
I thought to have ta'en you at the Porcupine ;
The chain, unfinilh'd, made me Hay thus long.
S. Ant. What is your will, that I mall do with this ?
Ang. What pleafe yourfelf, Sir ; I have made it
for you.
B. Ant. Made it for me, Sir! I befpoke it not.
Ang. Not once, nor twice, but twenty times, you
have:
Go home with it, and pleafe your wife withal j
And foon at fupper-time I'll vifit you,
And then receive my mony for the chain.
S. Ant. I pray you, Sir, receive the mony now ;
For fear you ne'er fee chain, nor mony, more.
Ang. You are a merry man, Sir j fare you well,
[Exit.
S. Ant. What I mould think of this, I cannot tell:
But this I think, there's no man is fo vain,
TJvat would refufe fo fair an offer'd chain.
1 Ice, a man here needs not live by fhifts,
When in the ftreets, he meets fuch golden gifts :
I'll ro the mart, and there for Dromio (lay j
Jf any Ihipputgut, then lira ight away. [Exit.
VOL.. III. R ACT
242 Ike Comedy of ERRORS.
A C T IV. SCENE I.
The STREET.
Enter a Merchant, Angelo, and an Officer,
MERCHANT.
YO U know, fince Pentecoft the fum is due ;
And fince I have not much importun'd you \
Nor now I had not, but that I am bound
To Perfia^ and want gilders for my voyage :
Therefore make prefent fatisfaction ;
Or I'll attach you by this officer.
Ang. Ev'n jufl the fum, that I do owe to you,
Is growing to me by Antipho&s ;
And, in the inftant that I met with you,
He had of me a chain : at five o* clock,
1 mail receive the mony for the fame:
Pleafe you but walk with me down to his houfe,
I will difcharge my bord, and thank you too.
Enter Antipholis of Ephefus, and Dromio 0/"Ephefus,
as from the Courtezan's.
Offi. That labour you may fave: fee, where he
comes.
E. Ant. While I go to the goldfmith's houfe, gothou
And buy a rope's end j that will I beftow
Among my wife and her confederates,
For locking me out of my doors by day.
But, foft i 1 fee the goldfmith : get thee gone,
Buy thou a rope, and bring it home to me.
E. Dro. I buy a thoufand pound a year! I buy a
rope! \_Exit Dromio.
E. Ant. A man is well holp up, that trufts to you :
I promifed your prefence, and the chain :
But
The Comedy of ERRORS. 243
But neither chain, nor goldfmith, came to me :
Belike, you thought, our love would laft too long
If it were chain'd together , therefore came not.
Ang. Saving your merry humour, here's the note,
How much your chain weighs to the utmoft carrat 5
The finenefs of the gold, the chargeful famion ;
Which do amount to three odd ducats more,
Than I ftand debted to this gentleman ;
I pray you, fee him prefently difcharg'd ;
For he is bound to fea, and ftays but for if.
E. Ant I am not furnifh'd with the prefent mony 5
Befides, I have fome bufmefs in the town -,
Good Signior, take the ftranger to my houfe,
And with you take the chain, and bid my wife
Disburfe the fum on the receipt thereof;
Perchance, I will be there as loon as you.
Ang. Then you will bring the chain to her yourfelf ?
E. Ant. No -, bear it with you, left I come not time
enough.
Ang. Well, Sir, I will: have you the chain about
you ?
E. Ant. An if I have not,"Sir, I hope, you have:
Or elfe you may return without your mony.
Ang. Nay, come, I pray you, Sir, give me the chain 5
Both wind and tide (lay for this gentleman ;
And I, to blame, have held him here too long.
E. Ant. Good lord, you ufe this dalliance to excufe
Your breach of promife to the Porcupine :
I mould have chid you for not bringing it ;
Bur, like a ihrew, you firft begin to brawl.
Mer. The hour (teals on , I pray you, Sir, difpatch.
sing . You hear, how he importunes me -, the chain
E. Ant. Why, give it to my wife, and fetch your
mony.
Ang, Come, come, you know, I gave it you,
ev'n now.
Or fend the chain, or fend me by fome token.
R 2 E. Ant.
244 ^ Comedy of ERRORS.
E. Ant. Fie, now you run this humour out of
breach :
Come, where's the chain ? I pray you, let me fee it.
Mer. My bufmefs cannot brook this dalliance:
Good Sir, fay, whe*r you'll anfwer me, or no 5
if not, I'll leave him to the officer.
E. Ant, I anfwer you? why fhould I anfwer you ?
Ang. The mony, that you owe me for the chain.
E, Ant. \ owe you none, 'till I receive the chain.
Ang. You know, I gave it you half an hour fince.
E. Ant. You gave me none ; you wrong me much
to fay fo.
Ang. You wrong me more, Sir, in denying it ;
Confider how it (lands upon my credit.
Mer. Well, officer, arreft him at my fuit.
Offi. I do, and charge you in the Duke's name to
obey me.
Ang. This touches me in reputation.
Either content to pay the fum for me,
Or I attach you by this officer.
E. Ant. Confent to pay for that I never had !
Arreft me, foolifh fellow, if thou dar'ft.
Ang. Here is thy fee -, arreft him, officer ;
J would not fpare my brother in this cafe,
If he fhouid fcorn me fo apparently.
Offi. I do arreft you, Sir j you hear the fuit.
E. Ar,t. I ao obey thee, 'till I give thee bail.
But, Sirrah, you fhall buy this fport as dear
As all the metal in your fhop will anfwer
Ang. Sir, Sir, I fliall have law in Ephefus,
To your notorious fhame, I doubt it not.
S C E N E - II.
Enter Dromio of Syracufe, from the Bay.
S. Dro. Matter, there is a bark of Epidamnum,
That flays but till her owner comes aboard ;
Then,
The Comedy of E R R o R s. 245
Then, Sir, fhe bears away. Our fraughtage, Sir,
I have convey'd aboard ; and I have bought
The O}'/, the Balfamum^ and Aqua-vitte.
The fhip is in her trim ; the merry wind
Blows fair from land j they ftay for nought at all,
But for their owner, matter, and yourfelf.
E. Ant. How now ! a mad man ! why, thou peevifh
fheep,
What fhip of Epidamnum ftays for me ?
S. Dro A (hip you fent me to, to hire waftage.
E. Ant. Thou drunken Qave, I fent thee for a ropej
And told thee to what purpofe, and what end.
5". Dro. You fent me for a ropeVend as foon :
You fent me to the bay, Sir, for a bark.
E. Ant. I will debate this matter at more leifure,
And teach your ears to lift me with more heed.
To Adriana, villain, hie thee ftraighr,
Give her this key, and tell her, in the desk
That's cover'd o'er with I'urki/h tapeftry,
There is a purfe of ducats, let her fend it:
Tell her, I am arrefted in the ftreet,
And that mail bail me ; hie thee, flavej be gone:
On, officer, to prifon 'till it come. [Exeunt.
S. Dro. To Adriana! that is where we din'd,
Where Dowfabel did claim me for her husband ;
She is too big, I hope, for me to compafs.
Thither I muft, altho' againft my will,
For fervants muft their matters' minds fulfil. [Exit.
SCENE III.
Changes to E. Antipholis'-f Houfe.
Enter Adriana and Luciana.
Adr. \ H, Luciano,, did he tempt thee fo?
/\ Might'ft thou perceive aufterely in his eye
That he did plead in earned, yea or no ?
R 3 Looktt
246 The Comedy of ERRORS.
LookM he or red or pale, or fad or merrily ?
What obfervation mad'ft thou in this cafe,
Of his heart's l meteors tilting in his face?
Luc. Firft he deny'd, you had in him no right.
Adr. He meant, he did me none, the more my fpight.
Luc. Then fwore he, that he was a ftranger here.
Adr. And true he fwore, though yet forfworn he
were.
Luc. Then pleaded I for you.
Adr. And what faid he?
Luc. That love I begg'd for you, he begg'd of me.
Adr. With what perfuafion did he tempt thy love?
Luc. Wirh words, that in an honeft fuit might move.
Firft, he did praife my beauty, then my fpeech.
Adr. Did'ft (peak him fair ?
Luc. Have patience, I befeech.
Adr, I cannot, nor I will not, hold me ftill ;
My tongue, though not my heart, (hall have its will.
He is deformed, crooked, old and fere,
Pil-fac'd, worfe-body'd, fhapdefs every where;
Vicious, ungentle, foolifh, blunt, unkind,
Stigmatical in making, worfe in mind.
Luc. Who would be jealous then of fuch a one?
No evil loft is wail'd, when it is gone.
Adr. Ah! but I think him better than I fay,
And yet, would herein others' eyes were worfe:
Far from her neft the lapwing cries away ;
My heart prays for him, tho* my tongue do curfe.
< meteors tilting in kit face?] Alluding to tiio>e nutfor-.
in the sky which have the appearance of lines of armies meeting
in the (hock. To this appearance he compares civu vvi.is in a,no
tiicr place,
Which, like tie rrtirors of a troubled Ktarjn,
.'Jll of one nature e f or.f fcbjtance bred,
D:d lately meet in the intefi'ine ftock
And furious c/o/ir of civil butchery,
S C E N k
The Comedy of ERRORS.
SCENE IV.
Enter Dromio of Syracufe.
S. Dro. Here, go ; the desk, the purfe 3 fwcet now,
make hafte.
Luc. How haft thou loft thy breath?
S. Dro. By running faft.
Adr. Where is thy mafter, Dromio ? is he well ?
S, Dro. No, he's in Tartar Limbo, worfe than hell ;
A devil in an everlafting garment hath him,
One, whofe hard heart is button'd up with fteel :
A fiend, a (a) fury, pitilefs and rough,
A" wolf, nay, worfe, a fellow all in buff;
A back- friend, a moulder-clapper, one that commands
The paflages of allies, creeks, and narrow lands ;
A hound that runs counter, and yet draws dry-foot well ;
One, that, before the judgment, carries poor fouls to
hell.
Adr. Why, man, what is the matter?
S. Dro. I do not know the matter i he is 'refted on
the cafe.
Adr. What, is he arrefted ? tell me, at whofe fuit.
S. Dro. I know not at whofe fuit he is arrefted,
well ; but he's in a fuit of buff, which 'refted him,
that I can tell. Will you fend him, miftrefs, redemp-
tion, the mony in his desk ?
Adr. Go fetch it, fitter. This I wonder at,
[Exit Luciana.
That he, unknown to me, ihould be in debt !
Tell me, was he arrefted on a bond ?
S. Dro. Not on a bond, but on a ftronger thing,
A chain, a chain ; do you not hear it ring ?
Adr. What, the chain?
[(a) f ury , Mr. Theobald, Vulg. />>>.]
R 4 5". Dro
The Comedy of E R R o R s.
S. Dro. No, no i the bell j 'tis time that I were
gone.
It was two ere I left him, and now the clock ftrikes
one.
Adr. The hours come back ! that I did never hear.
S. Dro. O yes, if any hour meet a ferjeant, a 5 turns
back for very fear.
Adr. As if time were in debt! how fondly doft
thou reafon ?
S. Dro. Time is a very bankrout, and owes more
than he's worth, to feafon.
Nay, he's a thief too *, have you not heard men fay.
That "Time comes ftealing on by night and day ?
If Time be in debt and theft, and a ferjeant in the way,
Hath he not reafon to turn back an hour in a day ?
Enter Luciana.
Adr. Go, Dromio *, there's the mony, bear it ftraight,
And bring thy mafter home immediately.
Come, fifter, I am preit down with conceit \
Conceit, my comfort and my injury. [,%<?##/.
SCENE V.
Changes to the Street.
Enter Antipholis of Syracufe.
S. Ant. *^p H E R E 's not a man 1 meet, but doth
L falute me,
As if I were their well-acquainted friend ;
And every one doth call me by my name.
Some tender mony to me, fome invite me ;
Some other give me thanks for kindnefles j
Some offer me commodities to buy.
Ev'n now a taylor call'd me in his (hop,
And fhow'd me filks that he had bought for me,
And
The Comedy of E R R o R s. 249
And therewithal took meafure of my body.
Sure, thefe are but imaginary wiles,
And Lapland forcerers inhabit here.
Enter Dromio of Syracufe.
5". Dro. Mafter, here's the gold you fent me for i
what, have you got rid of the picture of old Adam
new-apparel'd ?
S. Ant. What gold is this? what Adam doft thou
mean ?
S.Dro. Not that Adam, that kept the paradife-,
but that Adam^ that keeps the prifon j he that goes
in the calves skin, that was kill'd for the prodigal;
he that came behind you, Sir, like an evil angel, and
bid you rorfake your liberty.
S. Ant. I underftand thee not.
S. Dro. No? why, 'tis a plain cafe-, he that went
like a bafe-viol in a cafe of leather j the man, Sir,
that, when gentlemen are tired, gives them a fob, and
'refts them , he, Sir, that takes pity on decay'd men,
and gives 'em fuits of durance i * he, that fets up his
reft
2 he, that fets up bis reft to do more exploits 'with bis mace, than
a MORRis-^//ff.]5f/j up his Reft, is a phrafe taken from military
exercife. When gunpowder was firil invented, its force was very
weak compared to that in prefent ufe. This neceffarily required
fire-arms to be of an extraordinary length. As trie artitts improved
the ftrength of their powder, the fokheri proportionabiy fhortned
their arms and artillery ; fo that the cannon which Froi/urt tells
us was once fifty foot long, was contracted to lefs than ten. This
proportion likewife held in their muskets; fo that, till the middle
of the laft century, the musketeers always fupported their pieces
when they gave fire, with a Reft ftuck before them into the ground,
which they called fetting up their Reft, and is here alluded to. There
is another quibbling allufion too to the ferjeant's office of arreiling.
But what moft wants animadverfion is the morris pi^e, which is
without meaning, impertinent to the fenfe, and falfe in the alla-
fion ; no pike being ufed amongft the dancers fo called, or at leaft
not fam'd for much execution. In a word, Shake/pear wro:e,
a MAURICE-P/^,
i. e. a Pikeman of Prince Maurice's, army. He was the greateft
general
250 Ike Comedy of ERRORS.
reft to do more exploits with his mace, than a
Maurice-Pike.
S. Ant. What! thou mean'ft an officer?
S. Dro. Ay, Sir, the ferjeant of the band ; he, that
brings any man to anfwer it, that breaks his bond;
one that thinks a man always going to bed, and faith,
God give you good reft!
S. Ant. Well, Sir, there reft in your foolery.
Is there any fhip puts forth to night? may we be
gone ?
S. Dro. Why, Sir, I brought you word an hour
fince, that the bark Expedition puts forth to night,
and then were you hinder*d by the ferjeant, to tarry
for the hoy Delay ; here are the angels that you fent
for, to deliver you.
S. Ant. The fellow is diftract, and fo am I,
And here we wander in illufions ;
Some biefled power deliver us from hence !
SCENE VI.
Enter a Courtezan.
Cour. Well met, well met, mafter Antipbolis.
I fee, Sir, you have found the goldfmith now :
Is that the chain, you promis'd me to day ?
S. Ant. Satan, avoid ! 1 charge thee, tempt me not.
S. Dro. Mafter, is this miftrefs Satan ?
S. Ant. It is the devil.
S. Dro. Nay, (he is worfe, (he's the devil's dam i
and here fhe comes in the habit of a light wench, and
thereof comes, that the wenches fay, God dam me,
general of that age, and the conductor of the Low-country wars
againft Spain, under whom all the Englijh Gentry and Nobility were
bred to the fervice. Being frequently overborn with numbers, he
became famous for his fine Retreats, in which a ftand of Pikes is
of great fervice. Hence the Pikes of his army became famous for
IJieu military exploits.
that's
The Comedy of E RRORS. 2ci
that's as much as to fay, God make me a light wench.
It is written, they appear to men like angels of light ;
light is an effecl: of fire, and fire will burn 5 ergo, light
wenches will burn ; come not near her.
Cour. Your man and you are marvellous merry, Sir.
Will you go with me, we'll mend our dinner here ?
S. Dro. Mafter, if you do expect fpoon-meat, be-
fpeak a long fpoon.
S. Ant. Why, Drormo ?
S. Dro. Marry, he muft have a long fpoon, that
muft eat with the devil.
S. Ant. Avoid then, fiend ! what cell'ft thou me of
fupping ?
Thou art, as you are all, a forcerefs :
I conjure thee to leave me, and be gone.
Cour. Give me the ring of mine, you had at dinner,
Or for my diamond the chain you promised,
And I'll be gone, Sir, and not trouble you.
5. Dro. Some devils ask but the parings of one's
nail, a rufh, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin, a nut,
a cherry-ftone : but me, more covetous, would have
a chain. Mafter, be wife ; an if you give it her, the
devil will make her chain, and fright us with it.
Cour. I pray you, Sir, my ring, or clfe the chain ;
I hope, you do not mean to cheat me fo ? [go.
S. Ant. A vaunt, thou witch ! come, Dromio^ let us
S. Dro. Fly pride, fays the peacock ; miftrefs, that
you know. [Exeunt.
SCENE VII.
Manet Courtezan.
Cour. Now, out of doubt, Antipholis is mad ;
E!fe would he never fo demean himfelf.
A ring he hath of mine worth forty ducats,
And tor the fame he promis'd me a chain ;
Both one, and other, he denies me now.
The
252 The Comedy of E RRORS.
Thereafon, that I gather, he is mad,
(Bcfides this prefcnt inftance of his rage)
Is a mad tale he told today at dinner,
Of his own door being {hut againft his entrance.
Belike, his wife, acquainted with his fits,
On purpofe fhut the doors againft his way.
My way is now to hie home to his houle,
And tell his wife, that, being lunatick,
He rufh'd into my houfe, and took perforce
My ring away. This courfe I fitted chufe ;
For forty ducats is too much to lofe. [Exit.
SCENE VIII.
Changes to the Street.
Enter Antipholis of Ephefus, with a Jailor.
E. Art, FJ E A R me not, man j I will not break
away ;
I'll give thee, ere I leave thee, fo much mony,
To warrant thee, as I am 'refted for.
My wife is in a wayward mood to day,
And will not lightly truft the mefienger.
That I mould be attached in Ephefus^
I tell you, 'twould found harlhly in her ears.
Enter Dromio of Ephefus, with a Rope's-end.
Here comes my man ; I think, he brings the mony.
How now, Sir, have you that I fent you for ?
E. Dro. Here's that, I warrant you, will pay
them all.
P.. Ant. But where's the mony ?
E. Dro. Why, Sir, I gave the mony for the rope.
E. Ant. Five hundred ducats, villain, for a rope?
E. Dro. Til ferve you, Sir, five hundred at the rate.
. Ant. To what end did I bid thee hie thee home ?
E. Dro.
the Comedy 0f E R R o R s. 253
E Dro. To a rope's-end, Sir , and to that end am
I return'd.
E. Ant. And to that end, Sir, I will welcome you.
[Beats Dromio.
Offi. Good Sir, be patient.
E. Dro. Nay, 'tis for me to be patient -, I am in
adverfity.
Offi. Good now, hold thy tongue.
E. Dro. Nay , rather perfuade him to hold his
hands.
E. Ant. Thou whorfon, fenfelefs villain !
E. Dro. I would, I were fenfelefs, Sir, that I might
not feel your blows.
E. Ant. Thou art fenfible in nothing but blows, and
fo is an afs.
E. Dro. I am an afs, indeed ; you may prove it by
my long ears. I have ferv'd him from the hour of my
nativity to this inftant, and have nothing at his hands
for my fervice but blows. When I am cold, he heats
me with beating ; when I am warm, he cools me with
beating ; I am wak'd with it, when I fleep ; rais'd
with it, when I fit ; driven out of doors with it, when
I go from home ; welcomed home with it, when I
return ; nay, I bear it on my moulders, as a beggar
wont her brat ; and, I think, when he hath lam*d
me, I fhall beg with it from door to door.
SCENE IX.
Enter Adriana, Luciana, Courtezan, and Pinch.
E. Ant. Come, go along j my wife is coming yon-
der.
E. Dro. Miftrefs, * refpice finem, refpectyour end ;
or
3 MiJIrefs, refpice fincra, refpeff your tnd ; or rather the pro-
pbecie, like the parrot, beware the ropis-end.] Thefe words feem
to allude to a famous pamphlet of that time, wrote by Buchanan
again ft
254 ^ e Comedy of ERRORS.
or rather the prophetic, like the parrot, beware the
rope's-end.
E. Ant. Wilt thou ftill talk ? {Beats Dromio.
Cour. How fay you now? is not your husband
mad ?
Adr. His incivility confirms no lefs.
Good Dodtor Pincb, you are a Conjurer,
Eftablifh him in his true fenfe again,
And I will pleafe you what you will demand.
Luc. Alas, how fiery and how fharp he looks!
Cour. Mark, how he trembles in his extafie!
Pinch. Give me your hand, and let me feel your
pulfe.
E. Ant. There is my hand, and let it feel your ear.
Pincb. I charge thee, Satan, hous'd within this man,
To yield poffeflion to my holy prayers ;
And to thy ftate of darknefs hie thee ftraight,
I conjure thee by all the Saints in heav'n.
E. Ant. Peace, doating wizard, peace ; I am not
mad.
Adr. Oh, that thou wert not, poor diftrefied foul !
E. Ant. You minion, you, are thefe your cuftomers ?
Did this companion with the faffron face
Revel and feaft it at my houfe to day,
Whilft upon me the guilty doors were mut,
againft the Lord of Liddington ; which ends with thefe words,
Refpicefinem, refpice funem. But to what purpofe, unleft our Au-
thor would (hew that he could quibble as well in Englijh, as the
other in Latin, I confefs I know not. As for propbejying like the
parrot, this alludes to people's teaching that bird unlucky words ;
with which, when any paffenger was offended, it was the {land-
ing joke of the wife owner to fay, Take heed, Sir, my parrot pro-
pbejles. To this, Butler hints, where, fpeaking of Ralpbos skill
in augury, he fays,
Could tell what fultleft parrots mean,
That fpeak and think contrary clean ;
What member '//'j of ivhom they tafk,
When they cry ROPE, and walk, knave, walk.
And
The Comedy of E R R o R s. 255
And I deny'd to enter in my houfe ?
Adr. Oh, husband, God doth know, you din'd at
home,
Where, 'would you had remain'd until this time,
Free from thefe (landers and this open fhame !
E. Ant. Din'd I at home? thou villain, what fay'ft
thou ?
E. Dro. Sir, footh to fay, you did not dine at home.
E. Ant. Were not my doors lock'd up, and I Ihut
out ?
E. Dro. Perdie, your doors were lock'd, and you
fhut out.
E. Ant. And did not me herfelf revile me there ?
E. Dro. Sans fable, me herfelf revil'd you there.
E. Ant. Did not her kitchen-maid rail, taunt, and
fcorn me ?
E. Dro. Certes, me did, the kitchen-veftal fcorn'd
you.
E. Ant. And did I not in rage depart from thence ?
E. Dro. In verity, you did ; my bones bear witnefs,
That fince have felt the vigour of your rage.
Adr. Is't good to footh him in thefe contraries ?
Pinch. It is no fhame ; the fellow finds his vein,
And, yielding to him, humours well his frenzy.
E. Ant. Thou haft fuborn'd the goldfmith to arreft
me.
Adr. Alas, I fcnt you mony to redeem you,
By Dromio here, who came in hafte for it.
E, Dro. Mony by me ? heart and good will you
might,
Bat, furely, mafter, not a rag of mony.
E. Ant. Went'ft not thou to her for a purfc of du-
cats ?
Adr. He came to me, and I deliver'd it.
Luc. And I am witnefs with her, that (he did.
E. Dro, God and the rope-maker do bear me witnefs,
That J was fent for nothing but a rope.
Pinch
256 The Comedy of ERRORS.
Pinch. Miftrefs, both man and matter are pofleft j
I know it by their pale and deadly looks ;
They muft be bound, and laid in fome dark room.
E. Ant. Say, wherefore didft thou lock me forth to
day,
And why doft thou deny the bag of gold ?
Adr. I did not, gentle husband, lock thee forth.
E. Dro. And, gentle matter, I receiv'd no gold,
But I confefs, Sir, that we were lock'd out.
Adr. Diflfembling villain, thou fpeak'ft falfe in both.
E Ant. DifTembling harlot, thou art falfe in all ;
And art confederate with a damned -pack,
To make a loath fome abject fcorn of me :
But with thefe nails I'll pluck out thofe falfe eyes,
That would behold in me this fhameful fport.
Enter three or four, and offer to bind kirn : bejirives.
Adr. Oh, bind him, bind him, let him not come
near me.
: Pinch. More company ; the fiend is ftrong within
him.
Luc. Ay me, poor man, ho^ pale and wan he
looks !
E. Ant. What, will you murther me ? thou jailor,
thou,
I am thy prifoner, wilt thou fuffer them
To make a refcue ?
Offi. Matters ; let him go :
He is my prifoner, and you fhall not have him.
Pinch. Go, bind this man, for he is frantick too.
Adr. What wilt thou do, thou peevifh officer ?
Haft thou delight to fee a wretched man
Do outrage and difpleafure to himfelf ?
Offi. He is my prifoner ; if I let him go,
The debt, he owes, will be requir'd of me.
Adr. I will difcharge thee, ere I go from thee ;
Bear
"The Comedy of ERRORS.
Bear me forthwith unto his creditor,
[They bind Antipholis and Dromio.
And, knowing how the debt grows, I will pay it.
Good mailer Doctor, fee him fafe convey'd
Home to my houfe. Oh, moft unhappy day !
E. Ant. Oh, moft unhappy ftrumpet !
E. Dro. Matter, I'm here enter'd in bond for you.
E. Ant. Out on thee, viJlain ! wherefore doft thou
mad me ?
E. Dro. Will you be bound for nothing? be mad,
good mafter , cry, the devil.-
Luc. God help, poor fouls, how idly do they talk !
Adr. Go bear him hence ; fitter, ftay you with me.
\_Exeunt Pinch, Antipholis, flfl^Dromiq.
Say now, whofe fuit is he arrefted at ?
SCENE X.
Manent Officer^ Adriana, Luciana, and Courtezan.
Offi. One Angela, a goldfmith ; do you know him ?
Adr. I know the man ; what is the fum he owes ?
Offi. Two hundred ducats.
Adr. Say, how grows it due ?
Qffi. Due for a chain, your husband had of him.
Adr. He did befpeak a chain for me, but had it not.
Cour. When as your husband all in rage to day
Came to my houfe, and took away my ring,
(The ring I faw upon his finger now)
Straight after, did 1 meet him with a chain.
Adr. It may be fo, but I did never fee it.
Come, jailor, bring me where the goldfmith is,
I long to know the truth hereof at large.
VOL. JIL S SCENE
The Comedy of E R R o R s.
SCENE XL
Enter Antipholis of Syracufe, with his Rapier
and Dromio of Syracufe.
Luc. God, for thy mercy, they are loofe again.
Adr. And come with naked fwords ;
Let's call more help to have them bound again.
Offi. Away, they'll kill us. [7?<?jy run cut.
Manent Antipholis and Dromio.
S. Ant. I fee, thefe witches are afraid of fwords.
S. Dro. She, that would be your wife, now ran from
you.
S. Ant. Come to the Centaur^ fetch our fluff from
thence :
I long, that we were fafe and found aboard.
S. Dro. Faith, ftay here this night ; they will furely
do us no harm ; you faw, they fpake us fair, gave us
gold ; methinks, they are fuch a gentle nation, that
but for the mountain of mad flefh that claims marriage
of me, I could find in my heart to ftay here ftill, and
turn witch.
S. Ant. I will not ftay to night for all the town ;
Therefore away, to get our fluff aboard. [Exeunt.
ACTV. SCENE I.
A Street ; , before a Priory.
Enter the Merchant and Angelo.
A N G E L O.
I AM forry, Sir, that I have hinder'd you;
But, I proteft, he had the chain of me,
Tho' moft difhoneftly he doth deny it.
The Comedy </RRORS. 259
Mer. How is the man efteem'd here in the city ?
Ang. Of very reverent reputation, Sir,
Of credit infinite, highly belov'd,
Second to none that lives here in the city ;
His word might bear my wealth at any time.
Mer. Speak foftly : yonder, as I think, he walks.
Enter Antipholis and Dromio of Syracufe.
Ang. 'Tis fo ; and that felf-chain about his neck,
Which he forfwore moft monftroufly to have.
Good Sir, draw near to me, I'll fpeak to him.
Signior Antipbolis 9 \ wonder much
That you would put me to this Ihame and trouble ;
And not without fome fcandal to yourlelf,
With circumftance and oaths fo to deny
This chain, which now you wear (b openly ;
Brides the charge, the mame, imprifonment,
You have done wrong to this my honeft friend * 3
Who, but for flaying on our controverfie,
Had hoifted fail, and put to fea to day :
This chain you had of me, can you deny it ?
S. Ant. I think, I had ; I never did deny it.
Mer. Yes, that you did, Sir ; and forfwore it too.
S. Ant. Who heard me to deny it, orforfwear it?
Mer. Thefe ears of mine, thou knoweft, did hear
thee :
Fie on thee, wretch ! 'tis pity, that thou liv'fl
To walk where any honeft men refort.
S. Ant. Thou art a villain, to impeach me thus.
I'll prove mine honour and my honefty
Againft thee prefently, if thou dar'ft ftand.
Mer. I dare, and do defie thee for a villain.
draw.
S 2 SCENE
260 The Comedy of ERRORS.
SCENE II.
Enter Adriana, Luciana, Courtezan, and others.
Adr. Hold, hurt him not, for God's fake ; he is
mad ;
Some get within him, take his fword away :
Bind Dromio too, and bear them to my houfe.
S. Dro. Run, mafter, run ; for God's fake, take a
houfe ;
This is fome Priory ; in, or we are fpoil'd.
[Exeunt to the Priory
Enter Lady Abbefs.
All}. Be quiet, people ; wherefore throng you hi-
ther ?
Adr.' To fetch my poor diftracted husband hence;
Let us come in, that we may bind him faft,
And bear him home for his recovery.
Ang. I knew, he was not in his perfect wits.
Mer. I'm forry now, that I did draw on him.
Abb. How long hath this pofTefiion held the man ?
Adr. This week he hath been heavy, fower, fad,
And much, much different from the man he was :
But, 'till this afternoon, his paffion
Ne'er brake into extremity of rage.
Abb. Hath he not loft much wealth by wreck at fea ?
Bury'd fome dear friend ? hath not elfe his eye
Stray'd his affection in unlawful love ?
A fin,, prevailing much in youthful men,
Who give their eyes the liberty of gazing.
"Which of thefe forrows is he fubjecl; to ?
Adr. To none of thefe, except it be the laft ;
Namely, fome love, that drew him oft from home.
Abb. You fhould for that have reprehended him.
Adr. Why, fo I did.
Abb. Ay, but not rough enough.
Adr t
The Comedy of ERRORS. 261
Adr. As roughly, as my modefty would let me.
Abb. Haply, in private.
Adr. And in affemblies too.
Abb. Ay, but not enough.
Adr. l It was the copy of our conference.
In bed, he flept not for my urging it ;
At board, he fed not for my urging it ;
Alone, it was the fubject of my theam ;
In company, I often glanc'd at it ;
Still did I tell him, it was vile and bad.
Abb. And therefore came it, that the man was mad.
The venom clamours of a jealous woman
Poifon more deadly, than a mad dog's tooth.
It feems, his fleeps were hinder'd by thy railing j
And thereof comes it, that his head is light.
Thou fay'ft, his meat was fauc'd with thy upbraidings j
Unquiet meals make ill digeftions ;
Thereof the raging fire of fever bred 5
And what's a fever, but a fit of madnefs ?
Thou fay'ft, his fports were hinder'd by thy brawls.
* Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth enfue,
* But moodie and dull melancholy,
[ * Kitifman to grim and comfortlefs defpair ?]
* And at her heels a huge infectious troop
* Of pale diftemperatures, and foes to life.
In food, in fport, and life-preferving reft,
1 // au<7J the Copy of our conference^ We are not to underhand
this word here, as it is now ufed, in opposition to an original ;
any thing done after a pattern ; but we are to take it in the neareft
fenfe to the Latin word Copia, from which it is derived. Adriana
would fay, her reproofs were the burden, the fulnefs of her confe-
rence, all the fubjeft of her talk. And in thefe acceptations the
word Copia was ufed by Writers before our Author's time, as well
as by his contemporaries. Mr. Theobald.
2 Kinfman to grim and comfortlefs defpair?] Shake/pear could
never make melancholy a male in tins line, and a female in tie
next. This was the foolifh inlertion of the firft Editors. I
have therefore put it into hooks, as fpurious.
83 Tu
The Comedy of ERRORS.
To be cMurb'd, would mad or man or bead :
The confluence is then, thy jealous fits
Have feared thy husband from the ufe of wits.
Luc. She never reprehended him but mildly,
When he demeaned himfelf rough, rude and wildly ;
Why bear you thefe rebukes, and anfwer not ?
Adr. She did betray me to my own reproof.
Good people, enter, and lay hold on him.
Abb. No, not a creature enter in my houfe.
Adr. Then, let your fervants bring my husband
forth.
Abb. Neither ; he took this place for fan&uary,
And it (hall privilege him from your hands v
'Till I have brought him to his wits again,
Or lofe my labour in afiaying it.
Adr. I will attend my husband, be his nurfe,
Diet his ficknefs, for it is my office ;
And will have no attorney but myfelf ;
And therefore let me have him home with me.
Abb. Be patient, for I will net let him ftir,
'Till I have us'd th* approved means I have,
With wholfome firups, drugs, and holy prayers
To make of him a formal man again ;
It is a branch and parcel of mine oath,
A charitable duty of my order ,
Therefore depart, and leave him here with me.
Adr. \ will not hence, and leave my husband here ;
And ill it doth befeem your holinefs
To feparate the husband and the wife.
Abb. Be quiet and depart, thou (halt not have him.
Luc. Complain unto the Duke of this indignity.
[Exit Abbefs.
Adr. Come, go ; I will fall prcftrate at his feet,
And never rife, until my tears and prayers
Have won his Grace to come in perfon hither ;
And take perforce my husband from the Abbefs.
Mcr. By this, I think, the dial points at five :
Anon,
The Comedy of ERRORS. 263
Anon, I'm fure, the Duke himfelf in perfon
Comes this way to the melancholy vale ;
The place of death and forry execution,
Behind the ditches of the abbey here.
Ang. Upon what caufe ?
Mer. To fee a reverend Syracufan merchant,
Who put unluckily into this bay
Againft the laws and flatutes of this town,
Beheaded publickly for his- offence.
Ang. See, where they come 5 we will behold his
death.
Luc. Kneel to the Duke, before he pafs the abbey.
SCENE III.
Enter the Duke, and JEgeon bare-beaded ; with the
Hcadfman, and other Officers.
Duke. Yet once again proclaim it publickly,
If any friend will pay the fum for him,
He mail not die, fo much we tender him.
Adr. Juftice, moft facred Duke, againft the Abbefs.
Duke. She is a virtuous and a reverend Lady ;
It cannot be, that me hath done thee wrong.
Adr. May it pleafe your Grace, Antipholis my huf-
band,
(Whom I made lord of me and all I had,
At your important letters,) this ill day
A moft outrageous fit of madnefs took him ;
That defp'rately he hurry'd through the ftreet,
With him his bondman all as mad as he,
Doing difpleafure to the citizens,
By rufhing in their houfes ; bearing thence
Rings, jewels, any thing his rage did like.
Once did I gee him bound, and fent him home,
Whilft to take order for the wrongs I went,
That here and there his fury had committed :
Anon, I wot not by what ftrong efcape,
84 He
264. Ike Comedy of ERRORS.
He broke from thofe, that had the guard of him ;
* And, with his mad attendant mad himfelf,
Each one with ireful pafiion, with drawn iwords
Met us again, and, madly bent on us,
Chas'd us away ; 'till, raifing of more aid*
We came again to bind them ; then they fled
Into this abbey, whither we purfu'd them j
And here the Abbefs fhuts the gates on us.
And will not fuffer us to fetch him out,
Nor fend him forth, that we may bear him hence.
Therefore, molt gracious Duke, with thy command >
Let him be brought forth, and borne hence for help.
Duke. Long fince thy husband ferv'd me in my wars*
And I to thee ingag'd a Prince's word,
(When thou didft make him mafter of thy bed))
To do him all the grace and good I could.
Go, fome of you, knock at the abbey-gate j
And bid the lady Abbefs come to me.
1 will determine this, before I ftir.
SCENE IV.
Enter a Me/enger.
Meff. O miftrefs, miftrels, fhift and fave yourfelfj
My mafter and his man are both broke loofe,
Beaten the maids a-row, and bound the doctor,
Whofe beard they have fing'd off with brands of fire -,
And ever as it blaz'd, they threw on him
Great pails of puddled mire to quench the hair ;
My mafter preaches patience to him, and the while
His man with fciflars nicks him like a fool :
And, fure, unlefs you fend fome prefent help,
Between them they will kill the conjurer.
3 And, <with his mad attendant AND bimfflf,'] We fliould rea-.i,
MAD himfelf.
Mr.
The Comedy of E R R o R s. -265
Adr. Peace, fool, thy mafter and his man are here,
And that is falfe, thou doft report to us.
Meff. Miftrefs, upon my life, 1 tell you true ;
I have not breath'd almoft, fince I did fee it.
He crys for you, and vows if he can take you,
4 To fcotch your face, and to disfigure you.
[Cry within.
Hark, hark, I hear him, miftrefs ; fly, be gone.
Duke. Come, ftand by me, fear nothing : guard
with halberds.
Adr. Ay me, it is my husband j witnefs you,
That he is borne about invifible !
Ev'n now we hous'd him in the abbey here,
And now he's there, paft thought of human reafon.
SCENE V.
Enter Antipholis, and Dromio of Ephefus.
E. Ant. Juftice, moft gracious Duke, oh, grant me
juftice.
Even for the fervice that long fince I did thee,
When I beftrid thee in the wars, and took
Deep fears to fave thy life, even for the blood
That then I loft for thee, now grant me juftice.
Mgeon. Unlefs the fear of death doth make me dote,
I fee my fon AntipboKs, and Dromio.
E. Ant. Juftice, fweet Prince, againft that woman
there :
She whom thou gav'ft to me to be my wife 5
That hath abufed and difhonour'd me,
Ev'n in the ftrength and height of injury.
Beyond imagination is the wrong,
That me this day hath ihamelefs thrown on me:
Duke. Di (cover how, and thou malt find me juft.
4 To SCORCH your fact,'] We ftiould read SCCTCH, i.i.
hack, cut.
E Ant.
266 The Comedy of ERRORS.
E. Ant. This day, great Duke, me fhut the doors
upon me ;
Whilft fhe with harlots feafled in my houfe.
Duke. A grievous faulc ; fay, woman, didft thou fo ?
Adr. No, my good lord : myfeJf, he, and my fitter,
To day did dine together : fo befal my foul,
As this is falfe, he burthens me withal !
Luc. Ne'er may I look on day, nor deep on night,
But foe tells to your highnefs fimple truth!
Ai'%. O perjur'd woman ! they are both forfworn.
In this the mad-man juftly chargeth them.
E. Ant. My Liege, I am advifed, what I fay.
Neither diflurb'd with the effect of wine,
Nor, hcrxdy-ram, provok'd with raging ire ;
Albeit, my wrongs might make one wifer mad.
This woman Jock'd me out this day from dinner ;
That goldfmith there, were he not pack'd with her,
Could, witnefs it ; for he was with me then ;
"Who parted with me to go fetch a chain,
Fromiling to bring it to the Porcupine,
Where Balthazar- and- I did dine together.
Our dinner done, and he not coming thither,
I went to feek him j in the ftreet I met him,
And in his company that gentleman.
There did this perjut'd goldfmith fwear me down,
That T this day from him receiv'd the chain ;
Which, God he knows, I'faw not ; for the which,
He did arrcil me with an officer.
I did obey, and fent my peafant home
For certain ducats , he with none return 'd.
Then fairly I befpoke the officer,
To go in perfon with me to my houfe.
By th* way we met my wife, her lifter, and
A rabble more of vile confederates ;
They brought one Pincb^ a hungry lean-fac'd villain,
' A meer anatomy, a mountebank,
' A thread- bare juggler, and a fortune-teller,
' A needy,
The Comedy of ERRORS. 267
* A needy, hollow-ey'd, fharp-looking wretch,
' A living dead man ' This pernicious flave,
Forfooth, took on him as a conjurer ;
And, gazing in my eyes, feeling my pulfe,
And with no-face, as 'twere, out- facing me.
Cries out, I was poffeft. Then all together
They fell upon me, bound me, bore me thence ;
And in a dark and dankilh vault at home
There left me and my man, both bound together 5
'Till, gnawing with my teeth my bonds afunder,
I gain'd my freedom, and immediately
Ran hither to your Grace ; whom I beieech
To give me ample fatisfaction
For thefe deep fhames and great indignities.
Ang. My lord, in truth, thus far I witnels with him v
That he din'd not at home, but was lock'd out,
Duke. But had he fuch a chain of thee, or no ?
Ang. He had, my lord v and when he ran in here,
Thefe people faw the chain about his neck.
Mer. Beiides, I will be fworn, thefe ears of mine
Heard you confefs, you had the chain of him,
After you firft forfwore it on the mart ;
And thereupon I drew my fword on you ;
And then you fled into this abbey here,
From whence, I think, you're come by miracle.
K. Ant. I never came within thefe abbey walls,
Nor ever didft thou draw thy fword on me ;
I never faw the chain, fo help me heav'n !
And this is falfe, you burthen me withal.
Duke. Why, what an intricate impeach is this ?
I think, you all have drunk of Circe'?, cup :
If here you hous'd him, here he would have been ;
If he were mad, he would not plead fo coldly :
You fay, he din'd at home ; the goldfmith here
Denies that faying. Sirrah, what fay you ?
E. Dro. Sir, he din'd with her there, at the Por-
cupine.
Cour.
The Comedy 0f E R R o R s.
Cour. He did, and from my finger fnatch'd that
ring.
E. Ant. 'Tis true, my Liege, this ring I had of her.
Duke. Saw*it thou him enter at the abbey here ?
Cour. As fure, my Liege, as I do fee your Grace.
Duke. Why, this is ftrange, go call the Abbefs
hither ,
1 think, you are all mated, or ftark mad.
[Exit one to the Abbefs.
SCENE VI.
Mgetm. Mod mighty Duke, vouchfafe me fpeak
a word :
Haply, I fee a friend, will fave my life;
And pay the fum that may deliver me.
Duke. Speak freely, Syracufan, what thou wilt.
Mgeon. Is not your name, Sir, calPd Antipholis?
And is not that your bond-man Dromio ?
E. Dro. Within this hour I was his bond-man, Sir,
But he, 1 thank him, gnaw'd in two my cords ;
Now am I Dromio, and his man unbound.
Mgeon. I am fure, you both of you remember me.
E. Dro. Ourfdves we do remember, Sir, by you;
For lately we were bound, as you are now.
You arc not Pinch's patient, are you, Sir?
Mgeon. Why look you ftrange on me ? you know
me well.
E. Ant. I never faw you in my life, *till now.
Mgeon. Oh ! grief hath chang'd me, fince you faw
me laft;
And careful hours with time's deformed hand
Have written (trange defeatures in my face ;
But tell me yet, doft thou not know my voice ?
E. Ant. Neither.
JEgeon. DromiOy nor thou ?
. Dro. No, truft me. Sir, nor I.
The Comedy of E R R o R s. 269
JEgeon. I am fure, thou doft.
E. Dro. I, Sir? but I am fure, I do not : and what-
foever a man denies, you are now bound to believe
him.
JEgeon. Not know my voice! oh, time's extremity !
Haft thou fo crack'd and fplitted my poor tongue
In feven fliort years, that here my only Ton
Knows not my feeble key of untun'd cares?
Tho' now this grained face of mine be hid
In fap-confuming winter's drizled fnow,
And all the conduits of my blood froze up i
Yet hath my night of life fome memory ;
My wafting lamp fome fading glimmer left,
My dull deaf ears a little ufe to hear:
5 All thefe hold witnefles I cannot err,
Tell me thou art my fon Antipholis*
E. Ant. I never faw my father in my life.
JEgeon. But feven years fince, in Syracufa-bay,
Thou know'ft, we parted ; but, perhaps, my fon,
Thou fham'ft ^acknowledge me in mifery.
. Ant. The Duke, and all that know me in the
.city,
Can witnefs with me that it is not fb :
I ne'er faw Syracufa in my life.
Quke. I tell thee, Syracufon y twenty years
Have I been Patron to Antipbolis,
During which time he ne'er faw Syracufa :
I fee, thy age and dangers make thee doat.
5 All thefe OLD ivitneffes, I cannot err,"] I belie /e we fhould
read, All thefe HOLD nvitnefis I cannot err,
i. e. All thefe continue to teftify that I cannot err, and tell me,
SCENE
The Comedy 0/ E R R o R s.
SCENE VII.
Enter the Abbefs with Antipholis Syracufan, and Dro-
mio Syracufan.
Abb. Mod mighty Duke, behold a man much
wrong'd. {_All gather to fee him.
Adr. I fee two husbands, or mine eyes deceive me.
Duke. One of thefe men is Genius to the other ;
And fo of thefe which is the natural man,
And which the fpirit ? who deciphers them ?
S. Dro. I, Sir, am Dromio; command him away.
. Dro. I, Sir, am JDromiot pray let me flay.
S. Ant. JEgeon^ art thou not? or elfe his ghoft ?
S. Dro. O, my old mafter! who hath bound him
here?
Abb. Whoever bound him, I will loofe his bonds i
And gain a husband by his liberty.
Speak, old Mgeon^ if thou be'ft the man,
That hadft a wife once call'd Mmilia^
That bore thee at a burden two fair fons ?
Oh, if thou be'ft the fame JEgeon^ fpeak ;
And fpeak unto the fame SEmilia.
Duke. Why, here begins his morning ftory right;
Thefe two Antipholifs* thefe two fo like,
And thofe two Dremio's, one in femblance ;
Befides her urging of her wreck at fea,
Thefe plainly are the parents to thefe children,
Which accidentally are met together.
jEgcon. If I dream not, thou art ^Emilia ;
If thou art me, tell me where is that fon
That floated with thee on the fatal raft.
Abb. By men of Epidamnum^ he and I,
And the twin Dromio^ all were taken up ;
But, by and by, rude fi mermen of Corinth
By force took Dromio and my fon from them,
And me they left with thofe of Epldamnum.
What
The Comedy of ERRORS. 271
What then became of them, I cannot tell ;
I, to this fortune that you fee me in.
Duke. Antiphoiis* thou cam' ft from Corinth firft.
S.Ant. No, Sir, not I; I came from Syracufe.
Duke. Stay, ftand apart; I know not, which is which.
E. Ant. I came from Corinth, my moft gracious
Lord.
E. Dro. And I with him.
E. Ant. Brought to this town by that moft famous
warrior,
Duke Menaphon, your moft renowned uncle.
Adr. Which of you two did dine with me to day ?
S. Ant. I, gentle miftrefs.
Adr. And are not you my husband ?
E. Ant. No, I fay nay to that.
S. Ant. And fo do I, yet (he did call me fo :
And this fair gentlewoman, her fifter here,
Did call me brother. What I told you then,
I hope, I fhall have leifure to make good,
If this be not a dream, I fee and hear.
Ang. That is the chain, Sir, which you had of me.
S. Ant. I think it be, Sir, I deny it not.
E. Ant. And you, Sir, for this chain arrefted:me.
An%. I think, I did, Sir ; I deny it not.
Adr. I fent you mony, Sir, to be your bail,
By Dromio ; but, I think, he brought it not.
E. Dro. No, none by me.
S. Ant. This purfe of ducats I receiv'd from you.
And Dromio my man did bring them me;
I fee, we dill did meet each other's man,
And I was ta'en for him, and he for me,
And thereupon thele Errors all arofe.
E. Ant. Thefe ducats pawn I for my father here.
Duke. It fhall not need, thy father hath his life.
Cour. Sir, I muft have that diamond from you.
E. Ant. There, take it ; and much thanks for my
good cheer.
272 The Comedy of ERRORS.
Alb. Renowned Duke, vouchfafe to take the pains
To go with us into the abbey here,
And hear at Jarge difcourfed all our fortunes :
And all that are affembled in this place,
That by this fympathized one day's Error
Have fuffer'd wrong j go, keep us company,
And ye fhall have full fatisfa&ion.
Twenty five years have I but gone in travel
Of you my fons -, nor, 'till this prefent hour,
My heavy burdens are delivered :
The duke, my husband, and my children both,
And you the calendars of their nativity,
Go to a gofiip's feaft 6 and gaude with me :
After fo long grief fuch nativity !
Duke. With all my heart, I'll gofllp at this feaft.
[Exeunt*
SCENE VIII.
Manent the two Antipholis's, and two Dromio's.
S. Dro. Matter, fhall I fetch your fluff from (hip-
board?
E. Ant. Drcmio, what fluff of mine haft thou im-
bark'd?
S. Dro. Your goods, that lay at hoft, Sir, in the
Centaur.
S. Ant. He fpeaks to me ; I am your mafler,
Dromio.
Come, go with us, we'll look to that anon ;
Embrace thy brother there, rejoice with him.
[Exeunt Antipholis S. and E.
S. Dro. There is a fat friend at your matter's houfe,
That kitchen'd me for you to day at dinner :
6 and a o with me :] We (hould read,
and GAUDE ivtth me:
i. t. Rejoice, from the French, Gaudir.
Shs
Comedy of E R R o R s,
She now (hall be my fitter, not my wife.
E. Dro. Methinks, you arc my glafs, and not my
brother :
I fee by you, I am a fweet-fac'd youth :
Will you walk in to fee their gofiiping ?
S Dro. Not I, Sir; you*re my elder.
E. Dro. That's a queftion :
How (hall I try it ?
S. Dro. We*ll draw cuts for the fenior:
'Till then, lead thou firft.
E. Dro. Nay, then thus [Embracing.
We came into the world, like brother and brother :
And now let's go hand in hand, not one before another.
[Extunt.
273
VOL. III.
THE
THE
W I N T E R's
TALE.
T 2
DRAMATIS PERSONM.
LEONTES,
Polixenes, King of Bohemia.
Mamillius, young Prince o/Sicilia.
Florizel, Prince of Bohemia.
Camillo, -\
Antigonus, C
Cleomenes, f
Dion, V
Another Sicilian Lord.
Archidamus, a Bohemian Lord.
Rogero, a Sicilian Gentleman.
An Attendant on the young Prince Mamillius.'
Officers of a Court of Judicature.
Old Shepherd^ reputed Father of Perdita.
Clown> his Son.
A Manner.
Goaler.
Servant to the old Shepherd.
Autolicus, a Rogue.
Time, as Chorus.
Hermione, )ueen to Leontes.
Perdita, Daughter to Leontes and Hermione.
Paulina, Wife to Antigonus.
Emilia, Attendant on the Queen.
Two other Ladies.
; \
Satyrs for a Dance, Shepherds^ Shepherde/es^ Guards,
and Attendants.
SCENE, fometimes in Sicilia ; fometimes^ in
Bohemia.
THE
'THE
WIN r E R's ? A L E.
ACT L SCENE I.
Jin Antichamber in LeontesV PALACE.
Enter Camillo and Archidamus.
DAMUS.
F you (hall chance, Camilla^ to vifit Bo-
hemia, on the like occafion whereon my
lervices are now on foot ; you (hall fee,
as 1 have faid, great difference betwixt
our Bohemia and your Siciiia.
Cam. I think, this coming fummer, the King of
Siciiia means to pay Bohemia the vifitation, which he
juftly owes him.
I The Winter*} Tale ] This play throughout is written in the
very fpirit of its author. And in telling this homely and fimple,
tho' agreeable, country tale,
Our fiueeteft Shakelpear./ary'.f child,
Warbles hn nati-ve wood notes wild. Milton.
This was neceffary to obferve in mere juitice to the Play, as the
meannefs of the fable, and the extravagant conduft of it, had
inifled fome of great name into a wrong judgment of its merit;
which, as far as it regards fentiment and character, is fcarce in-
feuor to any in the whole collection.
T 3 Artb.
The WINTER'/ TALE,
Arch. Wherein our entertainment (hall mame ui,
we will be juftified in our loves ; for, indeed,
Cam. 'Befeech you
Arch. Verily, I fpeak it in the freedom of my
knowledge ; we cannot with fuch magnificence in
fo rare I know not what to fay we will give you
fleepy drinks, that your fenfes (unintelligent of our
infufficience) may, tho* they cannot praife us, as little
accufe us.
Cam.' ?ou pay a great deal too dear, for what's
given freely.
Arch, Believe me, I fpeak, as my Underftanding
inftrucls me ; and as mine honefty puts it to utterance.
Cam. Sicilia cannot mew himfelf over-kind to Bo-
hemia ; they were train'd together in their childhoods ;
and there rooted betwixt them then fuch an affection,
which cannot chufe but branch now. Since their more
mature dignities and royal neceflities made feparation
of their Jociety, their incounters, though not perfonal,
have been royally attornied with interchange of gifts,
letters, loving embaflies i that they have feem'd to be
together, tho* abfent ; Ihook hands, as over a Vaft ;
and embrac'd, as it were, from the ends of oppofed
winds. The heav'ns continue their loves !
Arch. I think, there is not in the world either ma-
lice, or matter, to alter it. You have an unfpeakable
comfort of your young Prince Mamillim: it is a
gentleman of the greateft promife, that ever came in-
to my note.
Cam. I very well agree with you in the hopes of
him: it is a gallant child ; one that, indeed, phyficks
the fubjecl:, makes old hearts frem : they, that went
on crutches, ere he was born, defire yet their life to
fee him a man.
Arch. Would they elfe be content to die?
Cam. Yes, if there were no other excufe why they
(hould defire to live.
Arch.
The WINTER/ TALE.
Arch. If the King had no fon, they would delire
to live on crutches 'till he had one.
SCENE II.
Opens to the Prefence.
Enter Leontes, Hermione, Mamillius, Polixenes,
and Attendants.
Pol. ^T I N E Changes of the watry ftar hath been
JJN a (The fhepherd's note,) fmce we have left
our Throne
Without a burthen : time as long again
Would be fill'd up, my brother, with our thanks ;
And yet we fhould, for perpetuity,
Go hence in debt : and therefore, like a cypher,
Yet {landing in rich place, I multiply
With one, we thank you, many thoufands more
That go before it.
Leo. Stay your thanks a while j
And pay them, when you part.
Pol. Sir, that's to morrow :
I'm queftion'd by my fears, of what may chance,
Or breed upon our abfence, ? may there blow
2 Tkejbepberd's note, ] /. e . I ufe the fhepherd's reckoning.
3 THAT MAY blow
No /neaping winds at home, &C.] This is nonfenfe, we Ihould
read it thus,
MAT THERE blow, &C.
He had faid he was apprehend ve that his prefence might be wanted
at home; but, left this fhould prove an ominous fpeech, he en-
deavours, as was the cuftom, to avert it by a deprecatory prayer.
. may there blow
No /neaping winds to make us fay,
This -was put firth too truly.
Bat the Oxford Editor, rather than be beholden to this correction,
alters it to,
there may blanu
Some /neaping winds - *
and fo deftroys the whole fentiment.
T 4 No
iPo The WINTER'/ TALE.
/
No (heaping winds at home, to make us fay,
s^/y " " This is put forth too truly." Bcfides, 1 have ftay'd
To tire your royalty.
L*0. We are tougher, brother,
>/ - x Than you can put us to't.
Pol No longer Stay.
Leo. One fev'n-night longer.
Pol. Very footh, to morrow.
Leo. We'll part the time bctween's then : and in that
I'll no gain- laying.
Pol. Preis me not, 'befeech you, fo i
There is no tongue that moves, none, none i'th* world,
So foon as yours, could win me: fo it mould now,
Were there neceffity in your requeft, altho*
'Twcre needful I deny'd it. My affairs
Do even drag me homeward ; which to hinder,
Were, in your love, a whip to me; my ftay,
To you a charge and trouble : to fave both,,
Farewcl, our brother.
Leo. Tongue-ty'd, our Queen ? fpeak you.
Her. I had thought, Sir, to've held my p? ace, unril
You'ad drawn oaths from him nor to (lay : you. Sir,
Charge him too coldly. Tel! him, you are furc,
All in Bsblerriia'i well : this fatisfa<5riori
The by-gone day proclaim'd -, fay this to him,
He's beat from his belt ward.
Leo. Well faid, Herr/iione.
Her. To tell, he longs to fee his ("on, were (Uong,
But let him (ay fo then, and let him go;
Bat let him (wear fo, and he (hall not liayj
We'll thwack him hence with diftaffs.
Yet of your royal prcience I'll adventure ['/I Pol.
The borrow of a week. When at Bohemia
You uke my lord, 4 I'll give you my conii.Mffion,
To
4 Til ' s.i'ue HI M my commijjion j We fho i)d r< *a.
Tke WINTER'/ TALE. 181
To let him there a month, 5 behind the geft
Prefix'd for's parting : 6 yet, good heed, Leontu,
I love thee not a jar o'th* clock behind *
What lady jhe_ her lord. You'll ftay ? ^
Po/. No, Madam.
J&r. Nay, but you will ?
jPo/. I may not, verily.
Her. Verily?
You put me oif with limber vows j but I,
Tho' you would feek t'unfphere the ftars with oaths,
Should yet lay, " Sir, no going: verily,
** You (hall not go j" a lady's verily is
As potent as a lord's. Will you go, yet?
Force me to keep you as a pri(bner,
Not like a gueit i ib you (hall pay your fees,
Wlien you depart, and lave your thanks. How fay
you?
My priioner ? or my gueft ? by your dread verily,
One of them you (hall be.
Pol. Your Gueil then, Madam :
To be your priioner, fhould import offending i
Which is for me lefs eafic to commit,
Than you to punifh.
Her. Not your Goaler then,
But your kind Hoftefs i come, I'll queftion you
Of my lord's tricks, and yours, when you were boys:
The verb let, or hinder, which follows, fhews the necefiity of it :
For fne could not fay Ihe would give her hu.<b.tnd a commiilion to
let or hinder himfelf. The commiflion is given to Polixenes, to
whom Ihe is freaking, to let or hinder her husband.
5 behind the geji] Mr. Theobald lays, he can neither trace,
r.or underhand the phrafe, and therefore thinks it fhould be jujl:
But the word geft is right, and fignifies a Itage or jjurrey. Jn
tne time of Royal Progrejfes the King's Itages, as we may lee by the
journals of them in the Herald's office, were called his CESTS ;
trom the old French word GIST E. Ditttrfirium.
6 yet, good heed, Leontes,] /. e yet take good heed, Lean-
to, to what I fajr. Which phraie, Mr. Theobald not underltanding,
he alters it to, good deed.
You
282 The WINTER'/ TALE.
You were pretty lordings then ?
Pol. We were, fair Queen,
Two lads, that thought there was no more behind,
But fuch a day to morrow as to day,
And to be boy eternal.
Her. Was not my lord
The verier wag o'th* two?
Pol. We were as twinn'd lambs, that did frisk i'th* Sun,
And bleat the one at th* other : what we chang'd,
Was innocence for innocence ; we knew not
The doctrine of ill-doing ; no, nor dream'd,
That any did : had we purfu'd that life,
And our weak fpirits ne'er been higher rear'd
With ftronger blood, we mould have anfwer'd heaven
Boldly, Not guilty, 7 th s impofuion clear'd,
Hereditary ours.
Her. By this we gather,
You have tript fmce.
Pol. O my moft facred lady,
Temptations have fmce then been born to's: for
In thofe unfledg'd days was my wife a girl ;
Your precious fclf had not then crofs'd the eyes
Of my young play-fellow.
Her. 8 Grace to boot !
7 " tJy impofitisn cleared,
Hereditary ours."] i e. fetting afide original Jin', bating the
impofition from the offence of our firft parents, we might have
boldly protefted our innocence to heaven.
2 Grace to boot f
Of this make no conc/ujton, left you fay, &c.] Polixenes had
faid, that fince the time of childhood and innocence, temptations
had grown to them ; for that, in that interval, the two Queens were
become women. To each part of this obfervatkm the Queen an -
fwers in order. To that of temptations (he replies, Grace to boot!
i. e. tho' temptations have grown up, yet I hope grace too has
kept pace with them. Grace to boot, was a proverbial expreffion
on thefe occafions. To the other part, (he replies, as for our tempt-
ing you, pray take heed you draw no conclufion from thence, for
that would be making your Queen and me devils, &c.
Of
The WINTER'/ TALE. 283
Of this make no conclufion, left you fay,
Your Queen and I are devils. Yet, go on ;
Th' offences we have made you do, we'll anfwer 5
If you firft finn'd with us, and that with us
You did continue fault ; and that you dipt not,
With any but with us.
Leo. Is he won yet?
Her. He'll flay, my Lord.
Leo. At my requeft he would not:
Hermione, my dearefl, thou ne'er fpok'ft
To better purpofe.
Her. Never?
Leo. Never, but once.
Her. What? have J twice faid well? when was't
before?
I pr'ythee, tell me ; cram's with praife, and make's
As fat as tame things : one good deed, dying tongue-lefs,
Slaughters a thoufand, waiting upon That.
Our praifes are our wages. You may ride's x
With one foft kifs a thoufand furlongs, ere ^A^^-
9 With fpur we heat an acreTRit to th' goal: *****
My lad good deed was to intreat his ftay ;
What was my firft ? it has an elder fifter,
Or I miftake you : O, would her name were Grace !
But once before I fpake to th' purpofe ? when ?
Nay, let me hav't ; I long.
Leo. Why, that was when
Three crabbed months had fowr'd themfelves to death,
9 With fpur ive beat an acre. But to tV goal:~\ Thus this paf-
fage has been always pointed ; whence it appears, that the Editors
did not take the Poet's conceit. They imagined that, But to th*
goal, meant, but to come to the purpofe ; but the fenfe is different,
and plain enough when the line is pointed thus,
With fpur nve beat an acre, but to tl) goal.
i. e. good ufage will win us to any thing ; but, with ill, we ftop
ftiort, even there where both our intereft and our inclination would
otherwife have carried us.
Ere
284 The WINTER'* TALE.
Ere I could make thee open thy white hand,
And clepe thyfclf my love j then didit thou utter
44 J arn yours for ever.
Her. 'Tis grace, indeed.
W hy, Jo you now j I've fpoke to th* purpofe twice ;
The one for ever earn'd a royal husband i
Th' other, for fome while a friend.
Leo. Too hot, too hot \_Afide.
To mingle friendfhip far, is mingling bloods.
1 have tremor cordis on me my heart dances ;
But not for joy not joy. This entertainment
May a free face put on , derive a liberty
From heartinefs, from bounty, fertile bofom,
And well become the Agent : 't may, I grant j
But to be padling palms, and pinching fingers,
As now they are, and making practis'd fmiles,
As in a looking-glafs and then to ligh, as 'twere
1 The mort o*th* deer ; oh, that is entertainment
My bofom likes not, nor my brows Mamidius^
Art thou my boy ?
Mam. Ay, my good lord.
Leo. I' fecks!
Why, that's my bawcock ; what ? has*t fmutch'd thy
nofc?
They fay, ii's a copy out of mine. Come, captain^
We mutt be neat ; not neat, but cleanly, captain j
And yet the fteer, the heifer, and the calf,
Are all call*d mat. Still virginalling
\Obferijing Polixenes and Her m lone,
Upon his palm? how now, you wanton calf!
Art thou my calf?
Mam. Yes, if you will, my lord.
Leo. Thou want'ft a rough pafii, and the moots
that I have,
To be full like me. Yet they fay, we arc
i 'The mart tto d*tr ;- ] A lefiou upon ihe horn at the death
of the Uter. i.ir, 'Theobald.
Almoft
*The WINTER'* TALE.
Almoft as like as eggs ; women fay fb,
That will fay any thing ; but were they falfe,
As o'er-dy'd blacks, as winds, as waters -, falfe,
As dice are to be wim'd, by one that fixes
No bourne 'twixt his and mine -, yet were it true
To fay, this boy were like me. Come, Sir page,
Look on me with your welkin-eye, fweet villain.
Mod dear'ft, mycollop can thy dam may'tbc
Imagination ! thou doft ftab to th* center.
Thou doft make pofilble things not be fo held,
Communicat'ft with dreams (how can this be?)
With what's unreal, Thou co-active art,
And fellow'ft Nothing. Then 'tis very credent,
Thou may'ft co-join with fomething, and thou doft,
And That beyond commifTion ; and I find it;
And That to the infection of my brains.
And hardning of my brows.
Pol. What means Sicilia ?
Her. He fomething feems unlettled.
Pol How? my lord?
Leo. What cheer ? how is't with you, beft brother ?
Her. You look,
As if you held a brow of much Diffraction.
Are not you mov'd, my lord?
Leo. No, in good earned.
How fometimes nature will betray its folly!
Its tendernefs ! and make itfelf a paftime
To harder bofoms ! Looking on the lines
Of my boy*s face, methougnts, I did recoil
Twenty-three years, and faw mylelf unbreech'd,
Jn my green velvet coat; my dagger muzzled,
Left it fhould bite its mafter ; and fo prove,
As ornaments oft do, too dangerous ;
How like, methought, I then was to this kernel,
This fquafh, this gentleman. Mine honeft friend,
Will you take eggs for mony ?
Mam. No, n;y lord, I'll fight.
Lee.
286 The WINTER/ TALE.
Leo. You will! why, happy man be's dole!- *
My brother,
Are you fo fond of your young Prince, as we
Do teem to be of ours ?
Pol. If at home, Sir,
He's all my exercife, my mirth, my matter;
Now my fworn friend, and then mine enemy ',
My parafite, my foldier, dates-man, all 5
He makes a July's day fhort as December ;
And with his varying childnefs, cures in me
Thoughts that mould thick my blood.
Leo. So ftands this Squire
Offic'd with me : we two will walk, my lord,
And leave you to your graver fteps. Hermione,
How thou lov'ft us, mew in our brother's welcome :
Let what is dear in Sicify, be cheap :
Next to thyfelf, and my young rover, he*s
Apparent to my heart.
Her. If you will feek us,
We are yours i'th' garden : mall's attend you there ?
Leo. To your own bents difpofe youj you'll be
found,
Be you beneath the sky : I am angling now,
Tho* you perceive me not, how I give line;
Go to, go to. [dfide, observing Her.
How me holds up the neb ! the bill to him !
And arms her with the boldnefs of a wife
[Exeunt Polix. Her. and attendants,
Manent Leo. Mam. and Cam.
To her allowing husband. Gone already*
Inch-thick, knee-deep ; o*er head and ears, a fork'd
one.
Go, play, boy, play thy mother plays, and I
Play too , but fo difgrac'd a part, whofe iffue
"Will hifs me to my grave : contempt and clamour
Will be my knel. Go, play, boy, play there have
been,
Or
The WINTER'* TALE. 287
Or I am much deceiv'd, cuckolds ere now ;
And many a man there is, even at this prefent,
Now while I fpeak this, holds his wife by th' arm,
That little thinks, me has been fluic'd in's abfence ;
And his pond fifh'd by his next neighbour, by
Sir Smile, his neighbour: nay, there's comfort
in't,
Whiles other men have gates ; and thofe gates open'd,
As mine, againft their will. Should all defpair,
That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind
Would hang themfelves. Phyfick for't, there is none:
It is a bawdy planet, that will ftrike
Where 'tis predominant ; and * 'tis powerful : think it.
Many a thoufand of 's have the difeafe and feel't not.
How now, boy ?
Mam. I am like you, they fay.
Leo. Why, that's fome comfort.
What ? Camilla there ?
Cam. Ay, my good Lord.
Leo. Go play, Mamillius thou'rt an honeft man :
[Exit Mamillius,
SCENE III.
Camilloy this Great Sir will yet (lay longer.
Cam. You had much ado to make his anchor hold 3
When you caft out, it (till came home.
Leo. Did ft note it?
Cam. He would not (lay at your petitions made ;
His bufmefs more material.
Leo. Didft perceive it?
2 "tls powerful: think it."] After this there are four lines of
infamous, fenfelefs ribaldry, ftuck in by fome profligate player,
which I have cafhier'd; and hope no learned cricick, or fine lady,
will efteem this a caftrated edition, for our having now and then
on the fame neceffity, and after haying given fair notice, taken the
fame liberty.
They're
Tie WINTER'* TALE.
They're here with me already ; J whifp'ring, rounding ;
Sicilla is a fo-forth ; 'tis far gone,
When I fhall guft it laft. How came't, Camilla,
That he did ftay ?
Cam. At the good Queen's entreaty.
Leo. At the Queen's be't ; good, fhould be per-
tinent ;
But fo it is, it is not. Was this taken
By any underftanding pate but thine?
For thy conceit is foaking, will draw in
More than the common blocks ; not noted, is't,
But of the finer natures ? by fome feverals
Of head-piece extraordinary ; lower mefles,
Perchance, are to this bufmefs purblind? fay.
Cam. Bufinefs, my lord ? I think, moft underftand
Bohemia ftays here longer.
Leo. Ha?
Cam. Stays here longer.
Leo. Av, but why ?
Cam. Tofatisfie your Highnefs, and th' entreaties
Of our moft gracious miftrefs.
Leo. Satisfie
Th' entreaties of your miftrefs? fatisfie?
Let That fuffice. I've trufted thee, Camilla,
With all the things neareft my heart; as well
My chamber-counccls, wherein, prieft like, thou
Haft cleans'd my bofom : I from thee departed
Thy Penitent reform'd j but we have been
Deceiv'd in thy integrity j deceiv'd
In that, which feems fo.
Cam. Be it forbid, my lord
Leo. To bide upon't ; Thou art not honeftj or,
If thou inclin'ft that way, thou art a coward ;
Which hoxes honefty behind, reftraining
3 nvhifp'ring, rounding ;] i. e. rounding in the ear, 3 phrafe
in ufe at that time. But the Oxford Editor not knowing that, alters
the text to, vobijpring round.
From
The WINTER/ TALE. 289
From courfe requir'd : or elfe thou muft be counted
A fervant grafted in my ferious Truft,
And therein negligent ; or elfe a fool,
That feeft a game plaid home, the rich flake drawn,
And tak'ft it all for jeft.
Cam. My gracious lord*
I may be negligent, foolilh and fearful ;
In every one of thefe no man is free,
But that his negligence, his folly, fear,
Amongft the infinite doings of the world,
4 Sometime puts forth. In your affairs, my lord,
If ever I were wilful negligent,
Ic was my folly ; if indullrioufly
I play'd the fool, it was my negligence,
Noc weighing well the end ; if ever fearful
To do a thing, where I the iflfue doubted,
Whereof the execution did cry out
Againft the non-performance, 'twas a fear
"Which oft infects the wifeft : thefe, my lord,
Are fuch allow'd infirmities, that honefty
Is never free of. But, 'befeech your Grace,
Be plainer with me, let me know my trefpafs
By its own vifage ; if I then deny it,
'Tis none of mine.
Leo. Ha'not you feen, Camilla,
(But that's paft doubt, you have ; or your eye-glafs
Is thicker than a cuckold's horn ;) or heard,
(For to a vifion fo apparent, rumour
Cannot be mute j) or thought, (for cogitation
Refides not in that man, that do's not think it 5)
My wife is flippery ? if thou wilt, confefs;
(Or elfe be impudently negative,
To have nor eyes nor ears, nor thought,) then fay,
Wy wife's a hobby-horfe, deferves a name
4 Commas and points fet right by Mr. Theolald.
VOL. IIL U As
290 *tbe WINTER'^ TALE.
As rank as any flax-wench, that puts to
Before her troth-plight : fay't, and juftify't.
Cam. I would not be a itander-by, to hear
My fovereign Miftrefs clouded fo, without
My prefent vengeance taken ; 'fhrew my heart,
You never fpoke what did become you lefs
Than this ; which to reiterate, 5 were fin
As deep as that, tho* true.
Leo. Is whifpering nothing ?
Is leaning cheek to cheek ? is meeting nofes ?
Kitting with infide lip ? flopping the career
Of laughter with a figh ? (a note infallible
Of breaking honefty :) horfing foot on foot ?
Skulking in corners ? wifhing clocks more fwift ?
Hours, minutes ? the noon, midnight, and all eyes
Blind with the pin and web, but theirs ; theirs only,
That would, unfeen, be wicked ? is this nothing?
Why, then the world, and all that's in't, is nothing ;
The covering sky is nothing, Bohemia nothing ;
My wife is nothing ; nor nothing have thefe nothings,
If this be nothing.
Cam. Good my lord, be cur'd
Of this difeas'd Opinion, and betimes ;
For 'tis moft dangerous.
Leo. Say it be, 'tis true.
Cam. No, no, my lord.
Leo. It is ; you lie, you lie :
I fay, thou lieft, Camilla^ and I hate thee ;
Pronounce thee a grofs lowt, a mindlefs flavc,
Or elfe a hovering temporizer, that
Canft with thine eyes at once fee good and evil,
Inclining to them both : were my wife's liver
Infected, as her life, fhe would not live
The running of one glafs.
5 'were Jin
As deep as that, tbo* true. ] /. e. Your fufpicion is as great 3
fin as would be that (if committed) for which you fufpeft her.
Cam.
The WINTER/ TALE,
Cam. Who do's in fed her ?
Leo, Why he, that wears her like his medal, hanging
About his neck ; Bohemia^ who, if I
Had fervants true about me, that bare eyes
To fee alike mine honour, as their profits,
Their own particular thrifts, they would do That
Which fhould undo more Doing : I, and thou
His cup-bearer, (whom I from meaner forme
Havebench'd, and rear'd to worfhip ; who may'ft fee
Plainly, as heav*n fees earth, and earth feesheav'n,
How 1 am gall'd ;) thou -might* ft be-fpice a cup,
To give mine enemy a Jafting wink ;
Which draught to me were cordial.
Cam. Sir, my lord,
I could do this, and that with no rafh potion,
6 But with a Jingring dram, that mould not work
Malicioufly, like poifbn : but I cannot
Believe this crack to be in. my dread miftrefs,
So fovereignly being honourable.
Leo. I've lov'd thee. Make't thy Queftion, and
go rot :
Do* ft think, I am fo muddy, fo unfettled,
To appoint my felf in this vexation ? Sully
The purity and whitenefs of my meets,
(Which to preferve, is fleep ; which being fpotted,
Is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wafps :)
Givefcandal to the blood o'th* Prince, my fon,
Who, 1 do think, is mine, and love as mine,
6 But <vcith a lingring dram, tbaf foould not itw/f,
Malicioufly. like poifon : ] The thought is here beautifully
exprefled. He could do it with a dram that fhould have none of
thofe vifible effefts that detett the poifener. Thefe effedls he finely
calls the malicious workings of poifon, as if done with defign to
l>ftrayihe ufer. But the Oxford Editor would mend Shakefpear'*
expreffion, and reads,
that fiould not work
Like a malicious poifon :
So that Camillas reaibn is quite loft in this happy emendation.
U 2 With-.
292 The WINTER'/ TALE.
Without ripe moving to't ? would I do this ?
Could man fo blench ?
Cam. I muft believe you, Sir;
I do, and will fetch off Bohemia for't :
Provided, that, when he's remov'd, your Highnefs
Will take again your Queen, as yours at firft,
Even for your fon's fake, and thereby for fealing
The injury of tongues, in Courts and Kingdoms
Known and ally'd to yours.
Leo. Thou doft advife me,
Even fo as I mine own courfe have fet down :
I'll give no blemifli to her honour, none.
Cam. My lord,
Go then ; and with a countenance as clear
As friendfhip wears at feafts, keep with Bohemia^
And with your Queen : I am his cup-bearer ;
If from me he have wholefome beveridge,
Account me not your fervant.
Leo. This is all ;
Do'r, and thou haft the one half of my heart ;
Do't not, thou fplit'ft thine own.
Cam. I'll do't, my lord.
Leo. I will feem friendly, as thou haft advis'd me.
[*/.
Cam. O miferable lady ! but, for me,
What cafe ftand I in ? I muft be the poifoner
Of good Polixenes, and my ground to do'c
Is the obedience to a mafter ; one,
Who, in rebellion with himfelf, will have
All that are his, fo too. To do this deed,
Promotion follows. If I could find example
Of thoufands, that had ftruck anointed Kings,
And flourifh'd after, I'd not do't: but fmce
Nor brafs, nor ftone, nor parchment, bears not one ;
Let villany itfelf forfwear't. I muft
Forfake the Court ; to do't, or no, is certain
To
The WINTER'* TALE. 293
To me a break- neck. Happy {for reign now !
Here comes Bohemia.
SCENE IV.
Enter PoJixenes.
Pol. This is ftrange ! methinks,
My favour here begins to warp. Not Ipeak ?
Good day, Camilla.
Cam. Hail, mod royal Sir !
Pol. What is the news i'th* court ?
Cam, None rare, my Lord.
Pol. The King hath on him fuch a countenance,
As he had loft fome province, and a region
Lov'd, as he loves himfelf : even now I met him
With cuftomary compliment, when he,
Wafcing his eyes to th* contrary, and falling
A lip or" much contempt, fpeeds from me, and
So leaves me to confider what is breeding.
That changes thus his manners.
Cam. I dare not know, my Lord.
Pol. How, dare not ? do not ? do you know, and
dare not ?
Be intelligent to me, 'tis thereabouts :
For to your lei f, what you do know, you muft ;
And cannot fay, you dare not. Good Camilla^
Your chang'd complexions are to me a mirror,
Which mews me mine chang'd too ; for I muft be
A party in this alteration, rinding
Myfelf thus alter'd with it.
Cam. There is a ficknefs
Which puts fome of us in diftemper ; but
I cannot name the difeafe, and it is caught
Of you that yet are well.
Pol. How caught of me ?
Make me not fighted like the bafilisk.
I've look'd on thoufands, who have fped the better
U 3 By
WINTER'^ TALE.
By my regard, but kill'd none fo : Camilla,
As you are certainly a gentleman,
Clerk-like experienced, (which no lefs adorns
Our gentry, than our parents' noble names,
In whofe fuccefs we are gentle I befeech you,
If you know aught, which does behove my knowledge
Thereof to be inform'd, imprifon't not
In ignorant concealment.
Cam. I may not anfwer.
Pol. A ficknefs caught of me, and yet I well ?
I muft beanfwer'd. Doft thou hear, Camilla,
I conjure thee by all the parts of man,
Which honour does acknowledge, (whereof the leaft
Is not this fuit of mine,) that thou declare,
What incklency thou doft guefs of harm
Is creeping towards me ; how far off, how near 5
Which way to be prevented, if it be ;
If not, how belt to bear it.
Cam. Sir, I'll tell you.
Since I am charg'd in honour, and by him
That I think honourable ; therefore, mark my counfcl i
Which muft be ev'n as fwiftly follow'd, as
I mean to utter it ; or both yourfelf and me
Cry loft, and fo good night.
Pol. On, good Camilla.
Cam. I am appointed Him to murder you.
Pol. By whom, Camillo ?
Cam. By the King.
Pol. For what?
Cam. He thinks, nay, with all confidence he fwears,
As he had feen't, or been an inftrument
7 To vice you to't, that you have toucht his Queen
Forbiddenly.
Pol Oh, then, my beft blood turn
To an infccled gelly, and my name
7 To vlccjfoa. tot, ] i, e. to draw, perfuade you. The cha-
Srafter called the Vice, in the ojd plays, was the Tempter to evil.
Be
WINTER'* TALE. 295
BeyoakM with his, that did betray the beft!
Turn then my frefheft reputation to
A favour, that may ftrike the dulled noftril
Where I arrive j and my approach be fhun'd,
Nay, hated too, worfe than the great'lt infection
That e'er was heard, or read !
Cam. Swear (a) this though over
By each particular ftar in heaven, and
By all their influences ; you may as well
Forbid the fea for to obey the moon,
As or by oath remove, or counfel make,
The fabrick of his folly ; whofe foundation
Is pil'd upon his faith, and will continue
The {landing of his body.
Pol. How mould this grow ?
Cam. I know not ; but, I'm fure, 'tis fafer to
Avoid what's grown, than queftion how 'tis born.
If therefore you dare truft my honelty,
That lies inclofed in this trunk, which you
Shall bear along impawn'd, away to night ;
Your followers I will whifper to the bufinefs ;
And will by twoes, and threes, at feveral pofterns,
Clear them o'th' city. For myfelf, I'll put
My fortunes to your fervice, which are here
By this difcovery loft. Be not uncertain ;
For by the honour of my parents, I
Have utter'd truth ; which if you feek to prove,
I dare not ftand by ; nor mail you be fafer,
Than one condemned by the King's own mouth i
Thereon his execution fworn.
Pol. I do believe thee :
I faw his heart in's face. Give me thy hand ;
Be pilot to me, and thy places mail
Still neighbour mine. My fh.ips are ready, and
My people did expect my hence departure
[ (a) this though, Mr. Theobald - Vulg.
U4 TWO
296 The WINTER'* TALE.
Two days ago. This jealoufie
Is for a precious creature 5 as fhe's rare,
Muft it be great ; and, as his perfon's mighty,
Muft it be violent ; and, as he does conceive
He is difhonour'd by a man, which ever
Profefs'd to him ; why, his revenges muft
In That be made more bitter. Fear o'er- fhades me:
8 Good expedition be my friend, and comfort
The gracious Queen's -, part of his theam, but nothing
Of his ill-ta'en iufpicion ! Come, Camilla^
I will refpecl: thee as a father, if
Thou bcar'ft my life off hence. Let us avoid.
Cam. It is in mine authority to command
The keys of all the pofterns : pleafe your Highnefs,
To take the urgent hour. Come, Sir, away. [Exeunt.
A C T II. S C E N E I.
The PALACE.
TLnter Hermione, Mamillius, and Ladies*
H E R M I O N E .
TAKE the boy to you ; he fo troubles me,
'Tis paft enduring.
j Lidy. Come, my gracious Lord.
Shall I be your play-fellow ?
Mam. No, I'll none of you.
i Lady.
8 Good expedition be my friend, and comfort
The gracious Queen ; ] But how could his expedition
cornfoit the Queen ? on the contrary it would increafe her Huf-
band's fufpicion. We Ihould read,
and comfort
Ihe gracious Queen's ,
>. i. be expedition my friend, and be comfort the Queen's friend.
The
The WINTER'* TALE. 297
1 Lady. Why, my fweet Lord ?
Mam. You'll kifs me hard, and fpeak to me as if
I were a baby ftill ; I love you better.
2 Lady. And why fo, my Lord ?
Mam. Not for becaule
Your brows are blacker ; (yet black brows, they fay,
Become fome women beft ; fo that there be not
Too much hair there, but in a femicircle,
Or a half-moon made with a pen.)
2 Lady. Who taught you this ?
Mam. I learn'd it out of women's faces : pray now,
What colour be your eye-brows?
i Lady. Blue, my Lord.
Mam. Nay, that's a mock : I've feen a lady's nolc
That has been blue, but not her eye-brows.
1 Lady. Hark ye,
The Queen, your mother, rounds apace : we mall
Prefent our fervices to a fine new prince
One of thefe days ; and then you'll wanton with us,
If we would have you.
2 Lady. She is fpread of late
Into a goodly bulk -, (good time encounter her !)
Her. What wifdom ftirs amongft you? come, Sir,
now
I am for you again. Pray you fit by us,
And telPs a tale.
Mam. Merry, or fad, ihall't be ?
Her. As merry as you will.
Mem. A fad tale's beft for winter.
I have one of fprights and goblins.
Her. Let's have that, good Sir.
Come on, fit clown, Come on, and do your beft
The Oxford Editor has thought fit to paraphrafe my corre&ien,
and To reads,
Heaven comfort
The gracious Queen ; >
To
The WINTER"* TALE.
To fright me with your fprights : you're powerful
at it.
Mam. There was a man*
Her. Nay, come fit down ; then on.
Mam. Dwelt by a church-yard ; I will tell it
fofcly:
Yond crickets fhall not hear it.
Her. Come on then, and give't me in mine ear.
SCENE II.
Enter Leontes, Antigonus, and Lords.
Leo. Was he met there ? his train ? Camilla with
him ?
Lord. Behind the tuft of pines I met them ; never
Saw I men fcowr fo on their way : I ey'd them
Even to their mips.
Leo. How blcit am I
Jn my juft cenfure ! in my true opinion !
Alack, for lefler knowledge, how accurs'd
In being fo bleft! " There may be in the cup
" A fpider fteep'd, and one may drink; depart,
" And yet partake no venom ; for his knowledge
u Is not infected : but if one prefent
" Th' abhorr'd ingredient to his eye, make known
" How he hath drunk, he cracks his gorge, his fides
" With violent hefts. I have drunk, and feen
the fpider..
Camilla was his help in this, his Pander :
There is a plot againft my life, my crown ;
All's true, that is miftrufted : that falfe villain,
Whom I employ'd, was pre-employ'd by him :
-* He hath difcover'd my defign, and 1
I He bath di fewer 1 el my defign, and I
Remain a pinch' d thing;- } Alluding to the fuperftiti-
on of the vulgar, concerning thofe who were enchanted, and fatten-
ed to die fpot, by charms fuperior to their own.
Remain
The WINTER'* TALE. 299
Remain a pinch'd thing ; yea, a very trick
For them to play at will : how came the pofterns
So eafily open ?
Lord. By his great authority,
Which often hath no lefs prevail'd than fo
On your command.
Leo. I know't too well.
Give me the boy -, I'm glad, you did not nurfe him. :
Though he does bear fome figns of me, yet you
Have too much blood in him.
Her. What is this, fport ?
Leo. Bear the Boy hence, he mall not come about
her ;
Away with him, and let her fport herfelf
With that flic's big with : for 'tis Polixems
Has made thee fwell thus.
Her. But I'd fry, he had not ;
And, I'll be fworn, you would believe my faying,
Howe'er you lean to th' nayward.
Leo. You, my lords,
Look on her, mark her well ; be but about
To fay, me is a goodly lady, and
The juftice of your hearts will thereto add,
'Tis pity, fhe's not honeft, honourable :
Praife her but for this her without- door form,
(Which on my faith deferves high fpeech,) and ftraight
The mrug, the hum, or ha, (thefc petty brands,
That calumny doth ufe : oh, I am out,
That mercy do's ; for calumny will fear
Virtue it felf.) Thefe fhrugs, thefe hums, and ha's,
When you have faid fhe's goodly, come between,
Ere you can fay fhe's honeft : but be't known,
(From him, that has moft caufe to grieve it ihould
be;)
She's an adukrefs.
Her. Should a villain fay fo,
The moft replenilh'd villain in the world,
He
The WINTER^ TALE.
He were as much more villain : you, my lord,
Do but miftake.
Leo. You have miflook, my lady,
Polixenes for Leontes. O thou thing,
Wnich I'll not call a creature of thy place,
Left barbanfm, making me the precedent,
Should a like language ufe to all degrees ;
And mannerly diftinguifhment leave out
Betwixt the prince and beggar. I have faid,
She's an adultrefs ; I have faid with whom :
More ; fhe's a traitor, and Camilla is
A federary with her ; and one that knows
What me mould fhame to know herfelf,
But with her mcft vile Principal, that Ihe's
A bed-fwerver, even as bad as thofe
That Vu'gars give bold'ft titles-, ay, and privy
To this their late efcape.
Her. No, by my life,
Privy to none of this : how will this grieve you,
When you mall come to clearer knowledge, that
You thus have publiih'd me ? gentle my lord,
You fcarce can right me throughly then, to fay
You did miftake.
Leo. No, if I miftake
In thefe foundations which I build upon,
The center is not big enough to bear
A fchool- boy's top. Away with her to prifon :
He, who mail fpeak for her, is far off guilty,
Buc that he fpeaks.
Her. There's fome iil planet reigns ;
I muft be patient, 'till the heavens look
With an afpect more favourable. Good my lords,
I am not prone to weeping ; (as our fex
Commonly are,) the want of which vain dew,
Perchance, fhall dry your pities ; but I have
That honourable grief lodg'd here, which burns
Worfe than tears drown : 'befeech you all, my Jords,
With
The W INTER'* TALI. 301
With thoughts fo qualified as your charities
Shall bcft inftruct you, meafureme; and fo
The King's will be perform'd !
Leo. Shall I be heard ?
Her. Who is't, that goes with me ? 'befeech your
Highnefs,
My women may be with me, for, you fee,
My plight requires it. Do not weep, good fools,
There is nocaufe ; when you mail know, your miflrefs
Has deferv'd prifon, then abound in tears,
As I come out ; this action, I now go on,
Is for my better grace. Adieu, my lord,
I never wifh'd to fee you forry ; now,
I truft, I mail. My women, come, you've leave.
Leo. Go, do your bidding ; hence.
[Exit Queen, guarded; and Ladies.
Lord. 'Befeech your Highnefs call the Queen again.
Ant. Be certain what you do, Sir, left your juftice
Prove violence ; in the which three Great ones fuffer,
Your felf, your Queen, yourfon.
Lord. For her, my lord,
I dare my Jife lay down, and will do't, Sir,
Pleafe you t'accept it, that the Queen is fpotlcfs
Pth' eyes of heaven, and to you, (I mean,
In this which you accufe her.,)
Ant. If it prove
She's otherwife, I'll keep my * ftable-ftand where
I lodge my wife, I'll go in couples with her:
Than when I feel, and fee, no further truft her;
For every inch of woman in the world,
Ay, every dram of woman's flefh is falfe,
If flic be.
Leo. Hold your peaces.
2 jlable-fland~\ Stable-fhnd is a term of the foreft laws,
and fignifies a place where a deer-itealer fixes his ftand, and keeps
watch for the purpofe of killing deer as they pafs by. Oxford
Editor.
Lord.
*tf>e WINTER** TALE.
Lord. Good my lord,
Ant. It is for you we fpeak, not for ourfelves:
You arc abus'd, and by fome putter-on,
That will be damn'd for't ; 'would I knew the villain,
I would land-damm him : be me honour-flaw'd,
I have three daughters ; the eldefl is eleven j
The fecond, and the third, nine, and fome five ;
If this prove true, they'll pay for't. By mine honour,
I'll geld 'em all : fourteen they mall not fee,
To bring falfe generations , they are coheirs,
And I had rather glib myfelf, than they
Should not produce fair iffbe.
Leo. Ceafe ; no more :
You fmell this bufmefs with a fenfe as cold
As is a dead man's nofe ; I fee't and feel't,
As you feel doing thus ; and fee withal
The inftruments that feel.
Ant. If it be fo,
We need no grave to bury honefty ;
There's not a grain of it, the face to fweeten
Of the whole dungy earth.
Leo. What? lack I credit?
Lord. I had rather you did lack than I, my lord,
Upon this ground ; and more it would content me
To have her honour true, than your fufpicion ;
Be blam'd for't, how you might.
Leo. Why, what need we
Commune with you of this? but rather follow
Our forceful inftigation ? our prerogative
Calls not your counfels, but our natural goodnefs
Imparts this ; which, if you, (or ftupified,
Or feeming fo, in skill,) cannot, or will not
Relifh a truth like usj inform your felves,
We need no more of your advice ; the matter,
The lofs, the gain, the ord'ring on't, is all
Properly ours.
Ant* And I wifh, my Liege,
You
The WINTER'* TALE. 303
You had only in your filent judgment try'd it,
Without more overture.
Leo. How could that be ?
Either thou art moft ignorant by age,
Or thou wert born a fool. Camilla' 5 flight,
Added to their familiarity,
(Which was as grofs as ever touch'd conjecture,
That lack'd fight only ; nought for approbation,
But only feeing ; all other circumftances
Made up to th* deed) doth pufli on this proceeding;
Yet for a greater confirmation,
(For, in an act of this importance, 'twere
Moft piteous to be wild) I have difpatch'd in poft,
To facred Delphos* to Apollo's temple,
Cleomines and Dion, whom you know
Of ftuff'd fufficiency : Now, from the oracle
They will bring all: whofe fpiritual counfel had,
Shall flop, or fpur me. Have I done well ?
Lord. Well done, my Lord.
Leo. Tho* I am fatisfy'd, and need no more
Than what I know, yet mail the oracle
Give reft to th* minds of others ; fuch as he,
Whofe ignorant credulity will not
Come up to th' truth. So have we thought it good
From our free perfon, (he mould be confin'd ;
Left that the treachery of the two, fled hence,
Be left her to perform. Come, follow us,
We are to fpeak in publick ; for this bufinefs
Will raife us all.
Ant. To laughter, as I take it,
If the good truth were known. [Exeunt.
SCENE
304 ^ WINTER'* TALE.
SCENE III.
Changes to a Prifon.
Enter Paulina, and a Gentleman.
Paul.'~T* H E keeper of the prifon, call to him :
JL \_Exit Gentleman,
Let him have knowledge who I am. Good lady,
No court in Europe is too good for thee ;
What doft thou then in prifon ? now, good Sir,
You know me, do you not ?
Re-enter Gentleman, witb the Coaler.
Goa. For a worthy lady,
And one whom much I honour.
Paul. Pray you then,
Condu6b me to the Queen.
Goa. I may not, Madam ;
To the contrary I have e'xprefs commandment.
Paul. Here's ado to lock up honefty and honour
from
Th' accefs of gentle vifitors! Is't lawful, pray you,
To fee her women ? any of them ? Emilia ?
Goa. So pleafe you, Madam,
To put a- part thefe your attendants, I
Shall bring Emilia forth.
Paul. I pray you now, call her :
Withdraw yourfelves. \Exeunt Gent. &c.
Goa. And, Madam,
I mud be prefent at your conference.
Paul. Well ; be it fo, pr'ythee.
Enter Emilia.
Here's fuch ado to make no ftain a (lain,
As pafifes colouring. Dear gentlewoman,
How fares our gracious lady ?
Emil.
The WINTER'* TALE. 305
Emit. As well, as one fo great and fo forlorn
May hold together ; On her frights and griefs,
(Which never tender lady hath borne greater,)
She is fomething before her time, deliver'd.
Paul. A boy ?
Emit. A daughter, and a goodly babe,
Lufty, and like to live: the Queen receives
Much comfort in't: fays, My poor prifoner,
I'm innocent as you.
Paul. I dare be fworn :
Thefe dangerous, unfafe lunes i'th' King! befhrew them,
He muft be told on't, and he (hall j the office
Becomes a woman beft. I'll take't upon me.
If I prove honey-mouth, let my tongue blifter ,
And never to my red-look'd anger be
The trumpet any more ! Pray you, Emilia,
Commend my bdt obedience to the Queen,
If me dares trull me with her little babe,
I'll fhew't the King, and undertake to be
Her advocate to th* loud'ft. We do not know,
How he may foften at the fight o'th' child :
The filence often of pure innocence
Pcrfuades, when fpeaking fails.
Emil. Moft worthy Madam,
Your honour and your goodnefs is fo evident,
That your free undertaking cannot mifs
A thriving iflue : there is no lady living
So meet for this great errand. Pleafe your ladyihip
To vifit the next room, I'll prefently
Acquaint the Queen of your moft noble offer,
Who but to day hammer'd of this defign -,
But durft not tempt a minifter of honour,
Left (he (hould be dcny'd.
Paul. Tell her, Emilia^
I'll ufe that tongue I have ; if wit flow from't,
As boldnefs from my bofom, Ict't not be doubted
I (hall do good.
VOL. III. X Emil
The WINTER'J TALE.
Emil. Now be you bleft for it!
I'll to the Queen : pleafe you, come fomething nearer.
Goa. Madam, if t pleafe the Queen to fend the babe,
I know not what I mall incur, to pafs it,
Having no warrant.
Paul. You need not fear it, Sir -,
The child was prifoner to the womb, and is
By law and procefs of great nature thence
Free'd and enfranchised j not a party to
The anger of the King, nor guilty of,
If any be, the trefpafs of the Queen.
Goa. I do believe it.
Paul. Do not you fear -, upon mine honour, I
Will ftand 'twixt you and danger. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Changes to the Palace.
Enter Leontes, Antigonus, Lords and other Attendants.
Leo. T^T OR night, nor day, no reft ; it is but
1.N weaknefs
To bear the matter thus ; meer weaknefs, if
The caufe were not in being ; part o'th* caufe,
She, the adultrefs ; for the Harlot-King
Is quite beyond mine arm ; out of the blank
And level of my brain ; plot- proof ; but fhe
I- can hook to me : fay, that me were gone,
Given to the fire, a moiety of my reft
Might come to me again. Who's there ?
Enter an Attendant.
Aiten. My Lord.
Leo. How do's the boy ?
Atten. He took good reft to night ; 'tis hop'd,
His ficknefs is difcharg'd.
Leo.
Ihe WINTER'* TALE. 307
Leo. To fee his noblenefs !
Conceiving the dishonour of his mother,
He ftraight declin'd, droop'd, took it deeply ;
Faften'd, and fix'd the fhame on't in himfelfj
Threw off his fpirit, his appetite, his fleep,
And down-right languifh'd. Leave me folelyj go*
[Exit Attendant.
See how he fares. Fie, fie, no thought of him-,
The very thought of my revenges that way
Recoyl upon me j in himfelf too mighty,
And in his parties, his alliance ; let him be,
Until a time may ferve. For prefent vengeance,
Take it on her. Camilla and Pclixenes
Laugh at me } make their paftime at my forrow ;
They mould not laugh, if I could reach them ; nor
Shall fhe, within my power.
N
y
Enter Paulina, with a Child.
Lord. You muft not enter.
Paul. Nay rather, good my lords, be fecond to me :
Fear you his tyrannous paflion more, alas,
Than the Queen's life ? a gracious innocent foul,
More free than he is jealous.
Ant. That's enough.
Atten. [within. ~] Madam, he hath not flept to night
commanded,
None fhould come at him.
Paul. Not fo hot, good Sir ;
I come to bring him fleep. 'Tis fuch as you,
That creep like fhadows by him, and do figh
At each his needlefs heavings ; fuch as you
Nourim the caufe of his awaking. I
Do come with words, as medicinal, as true >
X 2 Honeft,
308 The WINTER'/ TALE.
5 Honeft, as either ; to purge him of that humour,
That preffes him from fleep.
Leo. What noife there, ho ?
Paul. No noife, my Lord, but needful conference,
About fome gofiips for your Highnefs.
Leo. How?
Away with that audacious lady. -Antigonus,
I charg'd thee, that (he mould not come about me j
I knew, me would.
Ant. I told her fo, my Lord,
On your difpleafure's peril and on mine,
She mould not vifit you.
Leo. What? can'ft not rule her?
Paul. From all difhonefty he can ; in this,
(Unlefs he take the courfe that you have done,
Commit me, for committing honour,) trull it,
He (hall not rule me.
Ant. Lo-you now, you hear,
When me will take the rein, I let her run,
But fhe'll not Humble.
Paul. Good my Liege, I come
And I befeech you, hear me, who profefs
Myfelf your loyal fervant, your phyfician,
Your mofl obedient counfellor : yet that dares
Lefs appear fo, in comforting your evils,
Tnan fuch as moft feems yours. I fay, I come
From your good Queen.
Leo. Good Queen ?
Paul. Good Queen, my Lord,
Good Queen, I fay, good Queen ;
4 And would by combat make her good, fo were I
A
3 Honeft, as either', ] / e whofe fubjedl is the Queen's in-
nccence : otherwife there would be a tautology.
4 And would by combat make her good, fo 'were I
A man, the ivorjl about you.~\ Paulina fuppofes the King's
jealaufy to be raifed and inflamed by the courtiers about him ; who,
fhe finely fays,
creep
The WINTER'* TALE; 309
A man, on th* word about you.
Leo. Force her hence.
Paul. Let him, that makes but trifles of his eyes,
Firft hand me: on mine own accord, I'll off;
But firft, I'll do my errand. The good Queen,
For me is good, hath brought you forth a daughtc,
Here 'tis ; commends it to your bleffing.
[Laying down (be cbilc,
Leo. Out!
A mankind witch! hence with her, out o'door:
A moft intelligencing bawd!
Paul. Not fo ;
I am as ignorant in That, as you
In fo intit'ling me; and no lefs honeft
Than you are mad ; which is enough, I'll warrant,
As this world goes, to pals for honeft.
Leo. Traitors!
Will you not pufti her out ? give her the baftard.
[To Antigonus.
Thou dotard, thou art woman-tyr'd ; unroofted
By thy dame Partlet here. Take up the baftard,
Take't up, I fay ; give't to thy croan.
Paul. For ever
Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou
Take'ft up the Princefs, by that J forced bafenefs
Which he has put upon't !
Leo. He dreads his wife.
creep likejbado'ws by I.nm, and do Jlgb
At each bis needlefs beamings :
Surely then, fhe could not fay, that were fhe a man, tbe <worft of
tbefe, fhe would vindicate her miftrefs's honour againft the King's
fufpicions, in fingle combat. Shakefpear, I am perfuaded, wrote,
Jo were /
A man, ON TH' ivorji about you.
i. e. were I a man, I would vindicate her honour, on the worft of
thefe fycophants that are about you.
5 forced bafenefi"] forced for unnatural.
X 3 Paul.
jio Tfe WINTER'* TALE.
Paul. So, I would, you did: then 'twere paft all
doubt,
You'd call your children yours,
Leo. A neft of tray tors !
Ant. I am none, by this good light.
Paid. Nor I ; nor any
But one, that's here , and that's himfelf. For he
The facred honour of himfelf, his Queen's,
His hopeful fon's, his babe's, betrays to flander,
"Whofe fling is {harper than the fwoid's, and will not
(For as the cafe now (lands, it is a curfe
He cannot be compell'd to'r) once remove
The root of his opinion, which is rotten,
As ever oak or ftone was found.
Leo. A callat
Of boundlefs tongue, who late hath beat her husband,
And now baits me ! This brat is none of mine ;
It is the iffue ofPoIixenes.
Hence with it, and together with the dam,
Commit them to the fire.
Paul. It is yours ;
And, might we lay th* old proverb to your charge,
So like you, 'tis the worfe. Behold, my lords,
Altho' the print be little, the whole matter
And copy of the father ; eye, nofe, lip,
The trick of's frown, his forehead, nay, the valley,
The pretty dimples of his chin, and cheek, his fmiles,
The very mould and frame of hand, nail, finger.
And thou, good Goddefs Nature, which haft made it
So like to him that got it, if thou haft
The ordering of the mind too, 'mongft all colours
No yellow in'f, left me fufpecl, as he does,
Her children not her husband's.
Leo. A grofs hag!
And, lozel, thou art worthy to be hang'd,
That wilt not flay her tongue.
Ant. Hang all the husbands.
The WINTER'* TALE. 311
That cannot do that feat, you'll leave yourfelf
Hardly one fubject.
Leo. Once more, take her hence.
Paul. A moft unworthy and unnatural lord
Can do no more.
Leo. I'll ha' thee burnt.
Paul. I care not ;
It is an heretick that makes the fire,
Not me which burns in't. I'll not call you tyrant,
But this moft cruel ufage of your Queen
(Not able to produce more accufation
Than your own weak-hing'd fancy) fomething favours
Of tyranny ; and will ignoble make you,
Yea, fcandalous to the world.
Leo. On your allegiance,
Out of the chamber with her. Were I a tyrant,
Where were her life? flie durft not call me fo,
If me did know me one. Away with her.
Paul. I pray you, do not pufli me, I'll be gone.
Look to your babe, my lord, 'tis yours ; Jove fend her
A better guiding fpirit ! What need thefe hands?
You, that are t'hus fo tender o'er his follies,
Will never do him good, not one of you.
So, fo : farewel, we are gone. [#//.
SCENE VI.
Leo. Thou, traitor, haft fct on thy wife to this.
My child ? away with't. Even thou, thou that haft
A heart fo tender o'er it, take it hence,
And fee it inftantly confum'd with fire;
Even thou, and none but thou. Take it up ftraight :
Within this hour bring me word it is done,
And by good teftimony, or I'll feize thy life,
With what thou elfe call'ft thine: if thou refufe,
And wilt encounter with my wrath, lay fo:
The baftard brains with thefe my proper hands
X 4 Shall
The WINTER'/ TALE,
Shall I dafh out : go take it to the fire,
For thou fett'ft on thy wife.
Ant. I did not, Sir:
Theie lords, my noble fellows, if they pleafe,
Can clear me in't.
Lord. We can ; my royal Liege,
He is not guilty of her coming hither :
Leo. You're liars all.
Lords. 'Befeech your Highnefs, give us better credit.
We've always truly ferv'd you, and befeech you
So to efteem of us : and on our knees we beg,
(As recompence of our dear fervices
Paft, and to come) that you do change this purpofe,
Which being fo horrible, fo bloody, muft
Lead on to fome foul iffue. We all kneel
Leo. I am a feather for each wind that blows:
Shall I live on, to fee this baflard kneel
And call me father? better burn it now,
Than curfe it then. But be it ; let it live:
Jt mail not neither. You, Sir, come you hither;
[To Antigonus.
You, that have been fo tenderly officious
With lady Margery, your midwife there,
To fave this baftard's life ; (for 'tis a baflard,
So fure as this beard's grey) what will you adventure
To fave this brat's life?
Ant. Any thing, my Lord,
That my ability may undergo,
And noblenefs impofe : at leaft, thus much ;
I'll pawn the little blood which I have left,
To fave the innocent ; any thing poffible.
Leo, It fhall be poffible , fwear by this fword,.
Thou wilt perform my bidding.
Ant. I will, my Lord.
Leo. Mark and perform it ; feeft thou ? for the fail
Of any point in't fhall not only be
Peath to thyfelf, but to thy lewd-tongu'd wife,
Whom
Tie WINTER'* TALE.
Whom for this time we pardon. We enjoy n thee,
As thou art liege-man to us, that thou carry
This female baftard hence, and that thou bear it
To fome remote and defart place, quite out
Of our dominions , and that there thou leave it,
(Without more mercy,) to its own protection
And favour of the climate. As by ftrange fortune
It came to us, I do in juftice charge thee,
On thy foul's peril and thy body's torture,
That thou commend it ftrangely to fome place,
Where chance may nurfe, or end it. Take it up.
Ant. I fwear to do this : tho' a prefent death
Had been more merciful. Come on, poor babe;
Some powerful fpirit inftrucl the kites and ravens
To be thy nurfes ! Wolves and bears, they fay,
(Calling their favagenefs afide) have done
Like offices of pity. Sir, be profperous
In more than this deed does require ; and blefling,
Againft this cruelty, fight on thy fide!
Poor thing condemn'd to lofs. -
[Exif, with the child.
Leo. No ; I'll not rear
Another's ifTue.
Enter a Me.ffenger.
Mef. Pleafe your Highnefs, pofts,
From thofe you fent to th' oracle, are come
An hour fince. Cleomlnes and Dion,
Being well arriv'd from Delphos, are both landed,
Hading to th' court.
Lord. So pleafe you, Sir, their fpeed
Hath been beyond account.
Leo. Twenty-three days
They have been abfent : this good fpeed foretels,
The great dpotto fuddenly will have
The truth of this appear. Prepare you, lords,
Summon a lefiion, that we may arraign
Our
314 H>e WINTER'* TALE.
Our moft difioyal Lady ; for as me hath
Been publickly accus'd, fo fhall {he have
A juft and open tryal. While fhe lives,
My heart will be a burthen to me. Leave me,
And think upon my bidding. [Exeunt feverally.
ACT III. SCENE I.
A Part of Sicily y near the Sea-fide,
Enter Cleomines and Dion.
CLEOMINES.
TH E climate's delicate, the air moft fweet,
1 Fertile the ifle, the temple much furpaffing
The common praife it bears.
Dion. a It fhames report.
Foremoft it caught me, the celeftial habits,
(Methinks, I fo mould term them,) and the reverence
1 Fertile the ifle, ] But the temple of Apollo at Delphi was
rot in an ifland, but in Pbocis, on the continent. Either Shake-
fpear, or his Editors, had their heads running on De/os, an ifland
of the Cydades. If it was the Editor's blunder, then Sbakejpear
wrote, Fertile the foil,
which is more elegant too, than the prefent reading.
2 I s H A L L report,
FOR MOST /'/ caught me, &c.] What will he report? And
what means this reafon of his report, that the celeftkl habits molt
ftruck his obfervation ? We Ihould read,
IT SHAMES report.
FOREMOST it caught me,
Cleomines had juft before faid, that the Temple much furpajfed tit
(ammon praife it bore . The other, very naturally, replies it
jkames report, as far furpaffing what report faid of it. He then goes
on to particularize the wonders of the place : Foremoft, or firifc of
all, the priefts garments, then their behaviour, their aft of facri-
fice, &c. in reasonable good order.
Of
Voe WINTER'* TALE. 315
Of the grave wearers. O, the facrifice
How ceremonious, folemn, and unearthly
It was i'th* offering!
Cleo. But of all, the burft
And the ear-deafning voice o'th* oracle,
Kin to Jove's thunder, fo furpriz'd my fenfe,
That I was nothing.
Dion. If th' event o'th' journey
Prove as fuccefsful to the Queen, (O be't fo !)
As it hath been to us, rare, pleafant, fpeedy,
3 The ufe is worth the time on't.
Cleo. Great Apollo^
Turn all to th' beft ! thefe proclamations,
So forcing faults upon Hermione^
I little like.
Dion. The violent carriage of it
Will clear, or end the bufinefs f .when the oracle,
(Thus by Apollo's great divine feal'd up,)
Shall the contents difcover : fomething rare
Even then will rufti to knowledge. Go j frefli horfes :
And gracious be the iflue! \JLxeunt.
SCENE II.
Reprefents a Court of Juftice.
Leontes, Lords and Officers, appear properly fitted.
Leo. T~ HIS feffion, (to our great grief, we pro-
1 nounce,)
Ev'n pufhes 'gainft our heart. The party try'd,
The daughter of a King, our wife, and one
Of us too much belov'd ; let us be clear'd
Of being tyrannous, fince we fo openly
3 The time is worth the ufe on't.} It fhould be juft the rererfe,
The ufe is worth the time ont.
and this alteration the Oxford Editor approves.
Pro-
316 The WIN TER'J TALE.
Proceed in juftice, which mall have due courfe,
Even to the guilt, or the purgation.
Produce the prifoner.
Offi. It is his Highnefs* pleafure, that the Queen
Appear in perfon here in court. Silence !
Hermione is brought in, guarded ; Paulina, and Ladies
attending.
Leo. Read the indictment.
Offi. Hermione, Queen to the worthy Leontes, King
^fSicilia, thou art here accufed and arraigned of high
treafon, in committing adultery with Polixenes, King
of Bohemia, and confpiring with Camillo to take away
the life of our fovereign lord the King, thy royal hitf-
band ; the pretence whereof being by circumftances partly
laid open, tbou, Her mione, contrary to the faith and
allegiance of a true ftfjtcJ, didft counfel and aid them,
for their better fafety, to fly away by night.
Her. Since what 1 am to fay, muft be but That
Which contradicts my accufation ; and
The teftimony on my part, no other
But what comes from myfelf; it fhall fcarce boot me
To fay, Not guilty : mine integrity,
Being counted falfhood, fhall, as I exprefs it,
Be fo receiv'd. But thus, if powers divine
Behold our human actions, as they do,
I doubt not then, but innocence mall make
Falfe accufation blufh, " and tyranny
" Tremble at patience. You, my Lord, beft know,
Who leaft will feem to do io, my paft life
Hath been as continent, as chafte, as true,
As I am now unhappy ; which is more
Than hiftory can pattern, tho* devis'd,
And play*d, to take fpecl:ators. For behold me
A fellow of the royal bed, which owe
A moiety of the throne, a great King's daughter,
The mother to a hopeful Prince, here (landing
To
W i N T E R'J T A L E.
To prate and talk for life and honour, Tore
Who pleafe to come and hear. For life, I prize it
As I weigh grief which I would fpare : for honour,
*Tis a derivative from me to mine,
And only That I fland for. I appeal
To your own confcience, Sir, before PoRxenes
Came to your court, how I was in your grace,
How merited to be fo ; fince he came,
"With what encounter fo uncurrent I
Have ftrain'd t*appear thus ; if one jot beyond
The bounds of honour, or in a6b, or will
That way inclining, hardned be the hearts
Of all that hear me, and my near'fl of kin
Cry, fie, upon my grave !
Leo. I ne'er heard yet,
That any of thofe bolder vices wanted
Lefs impudence to gain-fay what they did",
Than to perform it firft.
Her. That's true enough ;
Tho' 'tis a faying, Sir, not due to me.
Leo. You will not own it.
Her. More than miflrtfs of,
What comes to me in name of fault, I muft not
At all acknowledge. For Polixenes*
With whom I am accus'd, I do confefs,
1 Jov'd him, as in honour he requir'd j
With fuch a kind of love, as might become
A lady like me ; with a love, even fuch,
So and no other, as your felf commanded :
Which not to have done, I think, had been in me
Both difobedience and ingratitude
To you, and towards your friend; whofe love had
fpoke,
Even fince it could fpeak, from an infant, freely,
That it was yours. Now for Confpiracy,
I know not how it taftes, tho* it be diih'd
For me to try how ; all I know of it,
The WINTER'* TALE.
Is, that Camilla was an honeft man ;
And why he left your Court, the Gods themfelves
(Wotting no more than I,) are ignorant.
Leo. You knew of his departure, as you know
What you have underta'en to do in's abfence.
Her. Sir,
You fpeak a language that I underftand not ;
My life (lands in the level of your dreams,
Which I'll lay down.
Leo. Your A&ions are my Dreams.
You had a Baftard by Polixenes,
And I but dream'd it : as you were paft all fhame,
(Thofe of your Fact are fo) fo paft all truth ;
Which to deny, concerns more than avails : for as
Thy brat hath been caft out, like to it felf,
No father owning it, (which is, indeed,
More criminal in thee than it) fo thou
Shalt feel our juftice ; in whofe eafieft paffage
Look for no lefs than death.
Her. Sir, fpare your threats ;
The bug, which you would fright me with, I feek :
To me can life be no commodity.
The crown and comfort of my life, your Favour,
I do give loft ; for I do feel it gone,
But know not how it went. My fecond joy,
The firft-fruits of my body, from his prefence
I'm barr'd like one infectious. My third comfort,
(Starr'd moft unluckily,) is from my bread
(The innocent milk in its moft innocent mouth)
Hal'd out to murder ; my felf on every poft
Proclaimed a ftrumpet with immodeft hatred ;
The child-bed privilege deny'd, which 'longs
To women of all fafliion : laftly, hurried
Here to this place, i'th* open air, before
I have got ftrength of limit. Now, my liege,
Tell me what bleflings I have here alive,
That I mould fear to die ? therefore proceed :
Bat
fhe WINTER'* TALE.
But yet hear this ; miftake me not ; no life,-
I prize it not a draw ; but for mine honour,
Which I would free, if I mail be condemned
Upon furmifes, (all proofs deeping elfe,
But what your jealoufies awake,) I tell you,
'Tis Rigour, and not Law. Your Honours all,
I do refer me to the Oracle :
Apollo be my judge.
SCENE III.
Enter Dion and Cleomines.
Lord. This your requeft
Is altogether juft ; therefore bring forth,
And in Apollo's name, his Oracle.
Her. The Emperor of Ruffia was my father,
Oh, that he were alive, and here beholding
His daughter's tryal ; that he did but fee
The fiatnefs of my mifery 5 yet with eyes
Of Pity, not Revenge !
Offi. You here mail fwear upon the Sword of
Juftice,
That you, Cleomines and Dion, have
Been both at Delpbos, and from thence have brought
This feal'd up Oracle, by the hand deliver'd
Of great Apollo's Prieft ; and that fince then
You have not dar'd to break the holy Seal,
Nor read the fecrets in'c.
Cleo. Dion. All this we fwear.
Leo. Break up the Seals, and read.
Offi. Hermione is chafle^ Polixenes Uamelefs, Ca-
millo a true Subjeft^ Leontes a jealous Tyrant, his in-
nocent babe truly begot ten ; and the King /hall live with-
out an heir, if That, which is /<?/?, be not found.
Lords. Now blefled be the great Apollo /
Her. Praifed !
Leo. Haft thou read truth ?
Of.
320 The WINTER^ TALE.
Offi. Ay, my lord, even fo as it is here fet down.
Leo. There is no truth at all i'th* Oracle ;
The Seflion fhall proceed j this is meer falfhood.
Enter Servant.
Ser. My lord the King, the King,
Leo. What is the bufmefs ?
Ser. O Sir, I fhall be hated to report it.
The Prince your fon, with meer conceit and fear
Of the Queen's Speed, is gone.
Leo. How gone ?
Ser. Is dead.
Leo. dpollo's angry, and the heav'ns themfelves
Do ftrike at my injustice. How now, there ?
[Her. faints,
Pan. This news is mortal to the Queen : look
down,
And fee what death is doing.
Leo. Take her hence ;
Her heart is but o'er-charg'd ; (he will recover.
[Exeunt Paulina and ladies with Hermione,
S C E N E IV.
I have too much believ'd mine own fufpicion :
'Befeech you, tenderly apply to her
Some remedies for life. Apollo, pardon
My great Prophanenefs 'gainft thine Oracle !
I'll reconcile me to Polixenes,
New woo my Queen, recal the good Camilla ;
(Whom I proclaim a man of Truth, of Mercy)
For being tranfported by my jealoufies
To bloody thoughts and to revenge, I chofe
Camilla for the Minifter, to poifon
My friend Polixenes ; which had been done,
But that the good mind of Camilla tardied
My fwift Command ; tho' I with death, and with
Reward,
The WINTER'^ TALE. 321
Reward, did threaten, and encourage him,
Not doing it, and being done ; he (moft humane,
And fill'd with Honour) to my kingly Gueft
Unclafp'd my practice, quit his fortunes here,
Which you knew great, and to the certain hazard
Of all incertainties himfelf commended,
No richer than his honour : how he gliders
Through my dark Ruft ! and how his Piety
Does my deeds make the blacker !
SCENE V.
Enter Paulina.
Pau. Woe the while !
O, cut my lace, left my heart, cracking it,
Break too.
Lord. What fit is this, good lady ?
Pau. What ftudied torments, Tyrant, haft for me ?
What wheels ? racks? fires? what flaying ? boiling?
burning
In leads, or oils ? what old, or newer, torture
Muft I receive ? whofe every word deferves
To tafte of thy moft worft. Thy Tyranny
Together working with thy Jealoufies,
(Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle
For girls of nine !) O, think, what they have done,
And then run mad, indeed; ftark mad, for all
Thy by-gone fooleries were but fpices of it.
That thou betray 'dft Polixenes, 'twas nothing}
That did but 4 mew thee off, a fool, inconftant,
And damnable ingrateful : nor was't much,
Thou would'ft have poifon'd good Camilla's honour,
To have him kill a King : poor trefpaffes,
4 Jhew tbee of a fool ] So all the copies. We fhould
read, -/hew tbee off, a fool, /'. e. reprefenl thee in thy
true colours ; a fool, an inconftant, &f c .
VOL. III> Y More
322 The WIN TER'J TALE.
More monftrous (landing by ; whereof I reckon
The catting forth to crows thy baby -daughter,
To be, or none, or little ; tho' a devil
Would have fhed water out of fire, ere don't :
Nor is't dire<flly laid to thee, the death
Of the young Prince, whofe honourable thoughts
(Thoughts high for one fo tender) cleft the heart,
That could conceive a grofs and foolifh Sire
Bl. - ft'd his gracious Dam : this is not, no,
Laid to thy anfwer ; but the laft, O lords,
When I havefaid, cry, woe! the Queen, the Queen,
The fweeteft, deareft, creature's dead j and vengeance
for't
Not dropt down yet.
Lord. The higher Powers forbid !
Pau. I fay, flic's dead : I'll fwear't : if word, nor
oath,
Prevail not, go and fee : if you can bring
Tincture or Juftre in her lip, her eye,
Heat outwardly, or breath within, I'll ferve you
As I would do the Gods. ' But, O thou tyrant !
Do not repent thefe things ; for they are heavier
Than all thy woes can ftir : therefore betake thee
To nothing but Defpair. A thoufand knees,
Ten thoufand years together, naked, fading,
Upon a barren mountain, and ftill winter
In ftorm perpetual, could not move the Gods
To look that way thou wert.
Leo. Go on, go on :
Thou canft not fpeak too much ; I have deferv'd
All tongues to talk their bittereft.
Lord. Say no more ;
Howe'er the bufinefs goes, you have made fault
I'th* boldnefs of your fpeech.
Pau. I am forry for't.
All faults I make, when I fliall come to know them,
I do repent : alas, I've fhew'd too much
The
The WINTER'* TALE. 323
The rafhncfs of a woman ; he is touch'd
To th' noble heart. What's gone, and what's pad
help,
Should be part grief. Do not receive affliction
At my petition, I befeech you ; rather
Let me be punifh'd, that have minded you
Of what you mould forget. Now, good my liege,
Sir, royal Sir, forgive a foolifh woman ;
The love I bore your Queen Jo, fool agal .
I'll fpeak of her no more, nor of your children :
I'll not remember you of my own lord,
Who is loft too. Take you your patience to you,
And Til fay nothing.
Leo. Thou didft fpeak but well,
When mod the truth ; which I receive much better
Than to be pitied of thee. Pr'ythee, bring me
To the dead bodies of my Queen and fon ;
One Grave fhall be for both. Upon them fhall
The caufes of their death appear unto
Our ihame perpetual ; once a day I'll vifit
The Chapel where they lye, and tears, fhed there*
Shall be my recreation. So long as nature
Will bear up with this exercife, fo long
I daily vow to ufe it. Come, and lead me
To thefe forrows. [Exeunt.
SCENE VI.
Changes to Bohemia. A defart Country j the
Sea at a little Diftance.
Enter Antigonus with a Child, and a Mariner.
Ant. HP H O U art perfect then, our Ihip hath
JL touch'd upon
The defarts of Bohemia ?
Mar. Ay, my lord j and fear,
Y ^ We'vtt
324 The WINTER'* TALE.
We've landed in ill time : the skies look grimly,
And threaten prefent blufters. In my confcience,
The heav'ns with that we have in hand are angry,
And frown upon's.
Ant. Their facred wills be done ! get thee aboard,
Look to thy bark, I'll not be long before
I call upon thee.
Mar. Make your bed hafte, and go not
Too far i'th' laril ; 'tis like to be loud weather.
Befides, this place is famous for the creatures
Of prey, that keep upon't.
Ant. Go thou away.
I'll follow inftantly.
Mar. I'm glad at heart
To be fo rid o' th' bufmcfs. [Exit.
Ant. Come, poor babe ;
I have heard, but not believ'd, the fpirits of the dead
May walk again ; if fuch thing be, thy mother
Appeared to me laft night -, for ne'er was dream
So like a waking. To me comes a creature,
Sometimes her head on one fide, fome another,
I never faw a vefiel of like forrow
So fill'd, and fo becoming 5 in pure white robes,
Like very fanctity, fhe did approach
My cabin where I lay ; thrice bow'd before me,
And, gafping to begin Ibme fpeech, her eyes
Became two fpouts ; the fury fpent, anon
Did this break from her. Good Antigonus^
Since fate, againft thy better difpoiition,
Hath made thy perfon for the thrower- out
Of my poor babe, according to thine oath,
Places remote enough are in Bohemia,
There weep, and leave it crying ; and, for the babe
Is counted loft for ever and ever, Perdita\
I pr'ythee, call't. For this ungentle bufmefs,
Put on thee by my lord, thou ne'er fhalt fee
Thy wife Paulina more. And fo, with Ihrieks,
She
The WINTER'/ TALE.
She melted into air. Affrighted much,
I did in time colled myfelf, and thought
5 This was fo, and no (lumber: Dreams are toys,
Yet for this once, yea, fuperflitioufly,
I will be fquar'd by this. I do believe,
Hermione hath fufier'd death ; and that
Apollo would, this being indeed the iflue
Of King Polixenes, it fhould here be laid,
Either for life or death, upon the earth
Of its right father. Blofibm, fpeed thee well !
[ Laying down the child.
There lye, and there thy character: there thefe,
Which may, if fortune pleafe, both breed thee, pretty
one,
And flill reft thine. The florm begins ; Poor
wretch,
That for thy mother's fault art thus expos'd
To lofs, and what may follow, (weep I cannot,
But my heart bleeds: and moft accurft am I
To be by oath enjoin'd to this.) Farewel !
The day frowns more and more ; thou art like to
have
A lullaby too rough : I never faw
The heav'ns fo dim by day. A favage clamour!
Well may I get aboard ! this is the chace ;
I am gone for ever. [Exit, purfued by a bear.
SCENE VII.
Enter an old Shepherd.
Shep, *' I would there were no age between ten and
" three and twenty, or that youth would fleep out
" the reft : for there is nothing in the between but
u getting wenches with child, wronging the ancientry,
5 This was fo, ] I rather think Shakefiear wrote SOOTH,
i.e. a truth, a reality.
Y 3 " dealing,
326 The W INTER'* TALE.
" dealing, fighting hark you now! would
" any but thefe boil'd brains of nineteen, and two
" and twenty, hunt this weather? They have fcar'd
" away two of my bed Iheep, which, I fear, the
" wolf will fooner find than the mailer ; if any where
" I have them, 'tis by the fea-fide, brouzing of ivy.
" Good luck, an't be thy will ! what have we here ?
" [faking up the child.~] Mercy on's, a bearne ! a very
" pretty bearne ! a boy, or a child, I wonder! a pret-
" ty one, a very pretty one; fare, fome 'fcape: tho*
" I am not bookifh, yet I can read waiting-gentlewo-
" man in the 'fcape. This has been fome flair- work,
" fome trunk-work, fome behind-door-work :" they
were warmer that got this, than the poor thing is here.
I'll take it up for pity, yet I'll tarry 'till my fon come :
he hollow'd but even now ; Whoa, ho-hoa !
Enter Clown.
Clo. Hilloa, loa!
Sbep. What, art fo near ? if thou'lt fee a thing to
talk on when thou art -dead and rotten, come hither.
What ail'fl thou, man ?
Clo. I have feen two fuch fights, by fea and by land ;
but I am not to fay, it is a fea ; for it is now the sky ;
betwixt the firmament and it you cannot thruft a bod-
kin's point.
Sbep. Why, boy, how is it ?
Clo. " I would, you did but fee how it chafes, how it
<c rages, how it takes up the more ; but that's not to
" the point; oh, the mod piteous cry of the poor
" fouls, fometimes to fee 'em, and not to fee 'em :
" now the fhip boring the moon with her main- mad,
" and anon fwallow'd with yed and froth, as you'd
" thrud a cork into a hogfhead. 6 And then for the
6 And then for the land -ferruice,"] Every one fees the humour
of this military expreffion of land-fervice ; and how well ic is
adapted to the character. Yet the Oxford Editor alters it to land-
f&t.
land
The WINTER/ TALE. 327
cc Jand-fervice. to fee how the bear tore out his
" moulder-bone, how he cry'd to me for help, and
" faid, his name was Antigonus^ a nobleman. But to
" make an end of the fhip, to fee how the fea flap-
" dragon'd it. But firft, how the poor fouls roar'd,
" and the fea mock'd them. And how the poor gen-
" tleman roar'd, and the bear mock'd him j both
" roaring louder than the fea, or weather.
Shep. 'Name of mercy, when was this, boy ?
Clo. Now, now, I have not wink'd fince I faw thefe
fights -, the men are not yet cold under water, nor the
bear half din'd on the gentleman ; he's at it now.
Shep. 'Would, I had been by to have help'd the
old man.
9io. I would, you had been by the (hip-fide, to have
help'd her j there your charity would have lack'd foot-
ing , [Afide.
Shep. Heavy matters, heavy matters ! but look thee
here, boy. Now blefsthyfelf; thou meet'ft with things
dying, I with things new-born. Here's a fight for thee ;
look thee, a bearing-cloth for a fquire's child ! look thee
here ; take up, take up, boy, open't ; fo, let's fee : it
was told me, I mould be rich by the fairies. This is
fome changling : open't ; what's within, boy ?
Clo. You're a mad old man j if the fins of your
youth are forgiven you, you're well to live. Gold !
all gold !
Shep. This is fairy gold, boy, and will prove fo.
Up with it, keep it clofe : home, home, the next way.
We are lucky, boy ; and to be fo ftill, requires no-
thing but fecrefie. Let my fheep go : come, good
boy, the next way home.
Clo. Go you the next way with your findings, I'll
go fee if the Bear be gone from the gentleman ; and
how much he hath eaten : they are never curft but
when they are hungry : if there be any of him left,
I'll bury it.
Y 4 Shep.
The WINTER'/ TALE.
Sbep. That's a good deed If thou may'fl difcern
by that which is left of him, what he is, fetch me to
th' fight of him.
Clo. Marry, will I ; and you (hall help to put him
i'th* ground.
Shep. 'Tis a lucky day, boy, and we'll do good
deeds on't. [Exeunt.
Enter Time, as Chorus.
Time. I, that pleafe fome, try all, both joy and
terror
Of good and bad, that make and unfold error ;
Now take upon me, in the name of Time y
To ufe my wings. Impute it not a crime
To me, or my fwift pafTage, that I Hide 4
O'er fixteen years, 7 and leave the gulf untry'd
Of that wide gap ; fince it is in my power
To overthrow law, and in one fell-born hour
To plant and o'erwhelm cuftom. Let me pafs
The fame I am, ere ancient'ft order was,
Or what is now receiv'd. I witnefs to
The times, that brought them in ; fo (hall I do
To th' frefheft things now reigning, and make flale
The gliflering of this prefent, as my tale
Now feems to it : your patience this allowing,
I turn my glafs ; and give my fcene fuch growing,
As you had flept between. Leonies leaving
Th' effects of his fond jealoufies, fo grieving
That he fhuts up himfelf ; imagine me,
Gentle fpectators, that I now may be
7 and leave the GROWTH untryd
Of that wide gap; ] 1 'he growth of what ? The reading
is nonienfe. Shzkefpear xvroie
and have the GULF untry'd, i. e. unwaded thro 1 . By
this means, too, the uniformity of the metaphor is reftored. Ail
the terms of the fentence, relating to a Gulf; as fivift paffage ,
fitde ever untry'd ivide gap.
In
The WINTER'* TALE.
In fair Bohemia ; and remember well,
I mention here a fon o'th* King's whom Florizel
I now name to you j and with fpeed fo pace
To fpeak of Perdita^ now grown in grace
Equal with wondring. What of her enfues,
I lift not prophefie. But let Time's news
Be known, when 'tis brought forth. A fhepherd's
daughter,
And what to her adheres, which follows after,
Is th' argument of time ; of this allow,
If ever you have fpent time worfe ere now :
If never, yet that Time himfelf doth fay,
He wifhes earneftly, you never may. [Exit.
ACT IV. SCENE I.
The Court of Bohemia.
Enter Polixenes and Camillo.
POLIXENES.
I Pray thee, good Camilla, be no more importunate ;
'tis a ficknefs denying thee any thing, a death to
grant this.
Cam. It is fifteen years fince I faw my country ;
though I have for the moft part been aired abroad, I
defire to lay my bones there. Befides, the penitent
King, my mafter, hath fent for me ; to whofe feeling
forrows I might be fome allay, or I o'er ween to think
fo, which is another fpur to my departure.
Pol. As thou lov'ft me, Camillo, wipe not out the
reft of thy fervices by leaving me now ; the need I
have of thee, thine own goodnefs hath made : better
not
The WINTER'/ TALE.
not to have had thee, than thus to want thee. Thou
having made me bufinefies, which none, without thee,
can fufficiently manage, muft either flay to execute
them thylelf, or takeaway with thee the very fervices
thou haft done ; which if I have not enough confi-
der'd, (as too much I cannot,) to be more thankful
to thee mall be my ftudy ; ' and my profit therein,
the reaping friendfhips. Of that fatal country Sicilia,
pr'ythee, fpeak no more ; whofe very naming pu-
nifhes me with the remembrance of that penitent, as
thou call*ft him, and reconciled King my brother,
whofe lofs of his mod precious Queen and children are
even now to be afrefh lamented. Say to me, when
faw'ft thou the Prince Florizel my fon ? Kings are no
lefs unhappy, their ifiue not being gracious, than they
are in lofing them, when they have approved their
virtues.
Cam. Sir, it is three days fince I faw the Prince ;
what his happier afTafrs may be, are to me unknown :
- but I have (miffing him) noted, he is of late much re-
tired from court, and is lefs frequent to his princely
exercifes than formerly he hath appcar'd.
Pol. I have confider'd fo much, Camillo^ and with
fome care fo far, that I have eyes under my fervice,
which look upon his removednefsj from whom I
1 and my profit therein, the HE kfiKG friendjblps.~\ This is non-
fenfe. We fhould read, REAPING friend/hips. 1 he King had
faid his ftudy ihould be to reward his friend's deferts ; and then
concludes, that his profit in this ftudy fhould be reaping the
fruits of his friend's attachment to him ; which refers to what he
had before faid of the neceffity of Camillas flay, or otherwife he
could not reap the fruit of thofe bufeneffes, which Camilla had
cut out.
2 but I have (MISSINGLY) noted,'] We fhould read, but I have
(MISSING HIM) noted. This accounts for the reafon of his
taking note, becaufehe often miffed him, that is, wanted his agreea-
ble company. For a compliment is intended ; and, in that fenfe,
ft is to be. undexftood. The Oxford Editor reads, tnufingly noted.
have
The WINTER'.* TALE.
have this intelligence, that he is feldom from the houfe
of a moft homely mepherd ; a man, they fay, that
from very nothing, and beyond the imagination of
his neighbours, is grown into an unfpeakable eftate.
Cam. I have heard, Sir, of fuch a man, who hath
a daughter of moft rare note ; the report of her is ex-
tended more than can be thought to begin from fuch
a cottage.
Pol. That's likewife a part of my intelligence ; but,
I fear, the Angle that plucks our fon thither. Thou
fhalt accompany us to the place, where we will (not
appearing what we are) have fome queftion with the
fhepherd ; from whofe fimplicity, I think it not un-
cafie to get the caufe of my fon's refort thither. Pr'y-
thee, be my prefent partner in this bufinefs, and lay
afide the thoughts of Sicilia.
Cam. I willingly obey your command.
Pol. My beft Camillo we muft difguife ourfelves,
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Changes to the Country.
Enter Autolicus finging.
WHEN daffadih begin to peere,
Wit^ heigh ! the doxy over the dale 9
I Why^ then come in the fweet o'th 9 year',
''Fore the red blood reins-in the winter pale.
3 Why, then COMES in thefweet e? th" year ;
For the red blood REIGNS in the WINTER'S pale."] I think
this nonfenfe mould be read thus,
Why, then COME in the fiveet o 1 ^ year ;
'FORE the reel blood REINS-/ the winter pale.
L e. Why then come in, or let us enjoy, pleafure, while the feafon
ferves, before pale winter reins-in the red or youthful blood; as
much as to fay, let us enjoy life in youth, before old age comes
and freezes up the blood.
Jfc
332 The WINTER'/ TALE.
?be white jheet bleaching on the hedge,
With, hey I thefweet birds., O bow theyfing!
Dotbfet my (a) frqgghtg tooth en edge:
For a quart of ale is a dijh for a king.
*helark^ that tirra-lyra chants,
With^ bey ! with, hey! the thrujh and the jay:
Are fummer fongs for me and my aunts,
While we lie tumbling in the hay.
I have ferved Prince Florizel, and in my time wore
three-pile, but now I am out of fervice.
Butjbail I go mourn for that, my dear ?
The pale moonjhir.es by night :
And when I wander here and there,
I then do go moft right.
Jf tinkers may have leave to live,
And bear the fow-skin budget ;
Then my account I well may give y
And in the flocks avouch it.
My traffick is fheets i when the kite builds, look to
leffer Jinnen. 4 My father nam'd me Autolicus^
being litter'd under Mercury ; who, as I am, was Jike-
wife a fnapper-up of unconfider'd trifles : with die and
drab, I purchas'd this caparifon ; and s my revenue
is
4 My father narnd me Autolicus, &V,] Mr. Theobald fays, the
allujion is unqutfticnably to Ovid. He is miilaken. Not only the
allufion, but the whole fpeech is taken from Lueian ; who appears
to have been one of our Poet's favourite authors, as may be col-
lefted from feveral places of his works. It is from his difcourfe on
judicial dftroJogy, where dutolicus talks much in the fame manner;
and 'tis only on this account that he is called the fon of Mercury by
the ancients, namely becaufe he was born under that planet. And
as the infant was fuppofed by the Aftrologers to communicate of
the nature of the flar which predominated, fo Autohcui was a
thief.
5 my revenue is the filly cheat.] Silly is ufed by the writers of
our author's time, for fimple, low, mean ; and in this the humour
of
[ (a)progging Oxford Edition - Vulg. pugging ]
The WINTER'* TALE. 333
is the filly cheat. Gallows, and knock, are too power-
ful on the high- way ; beating and hanging are terrors
to me : for the life to come, I fleep out the thought
of it. A prize ! a prize !
SCENE III.
Enter Clown.
Clo. Let me fee, - Every eleven weather tods,
every tod yields pound and odd milling ; fifteen hun-
dred morn, what comes the wool too ?
Aut. If the fprindge hold, the cock's mine.
Clo. I cannot do't without compters. Let me fee,
what am I to buy for our meep-mearing feaft, three
pound of fugar, five pound of" currants, rice
what will this fitter of mine do with rice ? but my father
hath made her miftrefs of the feaft, and me lays it on.
She hath made me four and twenty nofe-gays for the
fhearers ; three- man fong-men all, and very good
ones, but they are moil of them means and bafes ; but
one Puritan among them, and he fings pfalms to horn-
pipes. I muft have faffiron to colour the warden-pies,
mace - dates - none that's out of my note :
nutmegs, feven ; a race or two of ginger, but that I
may beg , four pound of prunes, and as many raifirfs
o' th' fun.
Aut. Oh, that ever I was born !
[Groveling on the ground.
Clo. Pth* name of me -
Aut. Oh, help me, help me: pluck but off thefe
rags, and then death, death --
of the fpeech confifts. I don't afpire to arduous and high things,
as bridewell or the gallows ; I am content with this humble and
low way of life, as a fnapper up cf uncorjidcr'cl trifles. But the
Oxford Editor, who, by his emendations, feems to have declared
war againlt all Shake/pear's humour, alters it Co, tbejly dial.
Clo.
334 WINTER'* TALE.
Clo. Alack, poor foul, thou haft need of more rags
to lay on thee, rather than have thefe off.
Aut. Oh, Sir, the loathfomnefs of them offends me,
more than the ftripes I have receiv'd, which are mighty
ones, and millions.
Clo. Alas, poor man ! a million of beating may
come to a great matter.
Aut. \ am robb'd, Sir, and beaten ; my mony and
apparel ta'en from me, and thefe deteftable things put
upon me.
Clo. What, by a horfe-man, or a footman ?
Aut. A footman, fweet Sir, a footman.
Clo. Indeed, he fhould be a foot-man, by the gar-
ments he hath left with thee ; if this be a horfe-man's
coat, it hath feen very hot fevice. Lend me thy hand,
1*11 help thee. Come, lend me thy hand.
[Helping him uf.
Aut. Oh ! good Sir, tenderly, oh !
Clo. Alas, poor foul.
Aut. O good Sir, foftly, good Sir : I fear, Sir, my
fhoulder- blade is out.
Clo. How now? canftftand?
Aut. Softly, dear Sir; good Sir foftly; you ha*
done me a charitable office.
Clo. Doft lack any mony ? I have a little mony for
thee.
Aut. No, good fweet Sir ; no, I befeech you, Sir ;
I have a kinfman not paft three quarters of a mile
hence, unto whom I was going, I fhall there have
mony, or any thing I want : offer me no mony, I
pray you ; that kills my heart.
Clo. What manner of fellow was he that robb'd
you?
Aut. *' A fellow, Sir, that I have known to go
' about 6 with trol-my-dames : I knew him once a
6 'with trolny-danei:] Trou-madame, French. The game of
cine-holes.
" fervant
The WINTER'/ TALE. 335
" fervant of the prince , I cannot tell, good Sir, for
" which of his virtues ic was, but he was certainly
" whipp'd out of the court.
Clo. " His vices, you would fay; there's no virtue
" whipp'd out of the court ; they cherilh it to make
*' it (lay there, and yet it will no more but abide.
Ant. Vices I would fay, Sir. I know this man well,
" he hath been fince an ape- bearer, then a procefs-
46 ferver, a bailiff; then he compafs'd a 7 motion of
" the prodigal fon, and married a tinker's wife within
" a mile where my land and living lies ; and, having
" flown over many knavifh profeflions, he fettled
" only in a rogue ;" fome call him Autolicus.
Clo. Out upon him, prig! for my life, prig ;
he haunts wakes, fairs, and bear-baitings.
Aut. Very true, Sir; he, Sir, he; that's the rogue,
that put me into this apparel.
Clo. Not a more cowardly rogue in all Bohemia -,
if you had but look'd big, and fpit at him, he'd have
run.
Aut. I muft confefs to you, Sir, I am no fighter ;
I am falfe of heart that way, and that he knew, I
warrant him.
Clo. How do you now ?
Aut. Sweet Sir, much better than I was; I can
ftand, and walk ; I will even take my leave of you,
and pace foftly towards my kinfman's.
Clo. Shall I bring thee on thy way ?
Aut. No, good-fac'd Sir ; no, fweet Sir.
Clo. Then, farewel, I muft go to buy fpices for our
fheep-fhearing. [Exit.
Aut. Profper you, fweet Sir! Your purfe is not hot
enough to purchafe your fpice. I'll be with you at
your fheep-fhearing too: if I make not this cheat
7 motion of the prodigal fan,"] i. e. the Puppet-flew, then called
Motions. A term frequently occurring in our Author.
bring
The WINTER'* TALE.
bring out another, and the fhearers prove fheep, 8 let
me be unroll'd, and my name put into the book of
virtue !
SONG.
Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way,
And merrily bent the ftile- a.
A merry heart goes all the day,
Tour fad tires in a mile-a. [Exit.
SCENE IV.
The Profpetf of a Shepherd's Cotte.
Enter Florizel and Perdita.
Flo. *Tp H E S E your unufual weeds to each part of
JL you
Do give a life : no fhepherdefs, but Flora
Peering in April's front. This your flieep-fhearing
Is as a meeting of the petty gods,
And you the Queen on't.
Per. Sir, my gracious lord,
To chide at your extreams it not becomes me :
Oh pardon, that I name them : your high felf,
The gracious mark o'th* land, you have obfcur'd
With a fwain's wearing ; and me, poor lowly maid,
Moft goddefs-like prank'd up. But that our fcafts
In every mefs have folly, and the feeders
Digeft it with a cuftom, I mould blufh
To fee you fo attired ; 9 fworn, I think,
To
8 let me be unroll V, and my name put intt the book of virtue ! J
Begging gipfies, in the time of our author, were in gangs and com-
panies, that had fomething of the ftiew of an incorporated Body.
From this noble fociety he wifties he may be unrolled if he does
not fo and fo.
9 fvjorn, I think,
Tojhtw myfclf a gtafs.] i. e. one would think that in putting
on this habit of a fhepherd, you had fworn to pat me out of
WINTER'^ TALE. 337
To mew myfdf a glafs.
Flo. I bids the time,
When my good falcon made her flight a-crofs
Thy father's ground.
Per. Now Jove afford you caufe !
To me the difference forges dread, your greatnefs
Hath not been us'd to fear ; even now I tremble
To think, your father, by fome accident,
Should pafs this way, as you did : oh, the fates!
How would he look, to fee his work, fo noble,
Vildly bound up ! what would he fay ! or how
Should I in thefe my borrow'd flaunts behold
The flernnefs of his prefence !
Flo. Apprehend
Nothing but jollity : the Gods themfelves,
Humbling their deities to love, have taken
The fhapes of beafls upon them. Jupiter
Became a bull, and bellow'd ; the green Neptune
A ram, and bleated ; and the fire-rob'd God,
Golden Apollo^ a poor humble fwain,
As I feem now. Their transformations
Were never for a piece of beauty rarer,
Nor in a way fo chafle : fmce my defires
Run not before mine honour, nor my lufts
Burn hotter than my faith.
Per. O, but, dear Sir,
Your refolution cannot hold, when 'tis
Oppos*d, as it muft be, by th' power o' th' King.
countenance ; for in this, as in a glafs, you {hew me how much be-
low yourfelf you muft defcend before you can get upon a level with
me. The fentiment is fine, and expreffes all the delicacy, as well
as humble modefly of the character. But the Oxford Editor alters
it to,
fiL-con, I think.
To flew my f elf a glafs.
What he means I don't know. But Ptrdita was not fo much give*
to /waning, as appears by her behaviour at the King's threats, when
the intrigue was difcovered.
VOL. in. 7. One
the WINTER'* T A L E.
One of thefe two muft be neceffities,
Which then will fpeak, that you muft change this
purpofe,
Or I my life.
Flo. Thou deareft Perdita,
With thefe forc'd thoughts, 1 pr'ythee, darken not
The mirth o'th' feaft ; or I'll be thine, my fair,
Or not my father's. For I cannot be
Mine own, nor any thing to any, if
I be not thine. To this I am moft conftant,
Tho' deftiny fay no. Be merry, (Gentle,)
Strangle fuch thoughts as thefe, with any thing
That you behold the while. Your guefts are coming ;
Lift up your countenance, as 'twere the day
Of celebration of that nuptial, which
We two have fworn mall come.
Per. O lady fortune,
Stand you aufpicious!
SCENE V.
Enter Sbepberd, Clown, Mopfa, Dorcas, Servants \
with Folixenes and Camillo difguis'd.
Flo. See, your guefts approach ?
Addrefs yourfelf to entertain them fprightly,
And let's be red with mirth.
She. " Fie, daughter , when my old wife liv'd, upon
" This day me was both pantler, butler, cook,
" Both dame and fervant j welcom'd all, ferv'd all ;
<c Would fing her fong, and dance her turn ; nowhere
" At upper end o'th' table, now i'th' middle :
" On his moulder, and his ; her face o' fire
" With labour ; and the thing me took to quench it
" She would to each one Tip." You are retired,
As if you were a feafted one, and not
The hoftefs of the meeting : pray you, bid
Thefe
The WINTER'/ TALE. 329
Thefe unknown friends to's welcome, for it is
A way to make us better friends, more known.
Come, quench your blufties, and prefent yourfelf
That which you are, miftrefs o'th' feaft. Come on,
And bid us welcome to your meep-ihearing,
As your good flock fhall profper.
Per. Sirs, welcome. [fo Pol. and Cam:
It is my father's will, I mould take on me
The hoftefsfhip o'th' day ; you're welcome, Sirs.
Give me thofe flowers there, Dorcas Reverend Sirs,
* 6 For you there's rofemary and rue, thefe keep
*' Seeming and favour all the winter long:
* c Grace and remembrance be unto you both,
" And welcome to our fhearing !
Pol. Shepherdefs,
(A fair one are you,) well you fit our ages
With flowers of winter.
Per. " Sir, the year growing ancient,
" Not yet on fummer's death, nor on the birth
" Of trembling winter, the faired flowers o'th* feafon
*' Are our carnations, and ftreak'd gilly- flowers,
*' Which fpme call nature's baftards: of that kind
" Our ruftick garden's barren, and I care not
" To get flips of them.
Pol. Wherefore, gentle maiden,
Do you neglect them ?
Per. " For I have heard it faid,
" There is an art, which in their piedenefs flmres
*' With great creating nature.
Pol. Say, there be ;
" Yet nature is made better by no mean,
* 6 But nature makes that mean ; fo over that art,
" Which, you fay, adds to nature, is an art
* c That nature makes -, you fee, fweet maid, we marry
" A gentle fcyon to the wildeft flock ;
<c And make conceive a bark of bafer kind
" By bud of nobler race. This is an art,
Z 2. "Which
The WINTER'* TALE.
" Which does mend nature, change it rather ; but
" The art itfelf is nature.
Per. So it is.
Pol. Then make your garden rich in gilly-flowcrs,
And do not call them baftards.
Per. " I'll not put
" The dibble in earth, to fet one flip of them :
" No more than, were I painted, I would wifh
" This youth mould fay, 'twere well 5 and only there-
" fore
* Defire to breed by me. Here's flowers for you ;
" Hot lavender, mints, favoury, marjoram,
" The mary-gold, that goes to bed with th' fun,
" And with him rifes, weeping : thefe are flowers
" Of middle fummer, and I think, they are given
" To men of middle age." Y'are very welcome
Cam. I mould leave grazing, were I of your flock,
And only live by gazing.
Per. " Out, alas !
" You'd be fo lean, that blafts of January
" Would blow you through and through. Now, my
faireft friend,
s< I would, I had fome flowers o'th* fpring, that might
" Become your time of day ; and yours, and yours,
" That wear upon your virgin-branches yet
" Your maiden-heads growing : O Proferpina,
" For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou let'ft fall
" From Dis's waggon ! daffadils,
" That come before the fwallow dares, and take
" The winds of March with beauty ; violets dim,
" But fweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes,
'* Or Cytberea's breath ; pale primrofes,
" That die unmarried, ere they can behold
<c Bright Pbeebus in his ftrength i (a malady
" Moft incident to maids -,) (a) gold oxlips, and
[ (a) gold, Oxford Editor Vulg. bold. ]
The
The WINTER^ TALE. 34.1
" The crown- imperial ; lillies of all kinds,
" The fiower-de-lis being one. O thefe, I lack
' To make you garlands of, and, my fweet friend,
*' To ftrow him o'er and o'er.
Flo. What? likeacoarfe?
Per. No, like a bank, for love to lie and play on ;
Not like a coarfe ; or if, not to be buried
But quick, and in mine arms. Come, take your flowers >
Methinks, I play as I have feen them do
In whitfon paftorals : fure, this robe of mine
Does change my difpofition.
Flo. What you do,
Still betters what is done. When you fpeak, (fweet)
I'd have you do it ever; when you fing,
I'd have you buy and fell fo ; fo, give alms ;
Pray, fo ; and for the ord'ring your affairs,
To fing them too. When you do dance, I wifli you
A wave o'th' fea, that you might ever do
Nothing but that move (till, flill fo,
And own no other function. Each your doing,
So fmgular in each particular,
Crowns what you're doing in the prefent deeds,
That all your ads are Queens.
Per. O Doricles,
Your praifes are too large ; but that your youth,
And the true blood, which peeps forth fairly through if,
Do plainly give you out an unftain'd mepherd j
With wifdom I might fear, my Doricks^
You woo'd me the falfe way.
Flo. * I think, you have
As little skill to fear, as I have purpofe
i I think , you have
As little skill to fear ] To have skill to do a thing was a
phrafe then in ufe equivalent to our to have reafon to da a thing.
The Oxford Editor, ignorant of this, alters it to,
As little skill in fear,
which has no kind of ienie in this place.
Z 3 To
342 The WINTER'* TALE.
To put you to't. But, come -, our dance, I pray j
Your hand, my Penlita, ; fo turtles pair,
That never mean to part.
Per. I'll fwear for J em.
Pol. " This is the prett 
